


Anthony J. Crowley and the Green Eyed Monster

by DamagedDolly



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Bed-Wetting, Consensual spanking, Crowley Whump (Good Omens), Diapers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Little! Crowley, Littles Are Known, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Omorashi, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Wetting, mild spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:05:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 353
Words: 271,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamagedDolly/pseuds/DamagedDolly
Summary: Anthony J. Crowley, fallen angel, the Serpent of Eden,  professional nuisance, and demon who was definitely not a little, was most assuredly not jealous of the little currently seated on Aziraphale's lap. The little who was at this moment being bottle fed, looked at adoringly, and just generally being pampered, and petted, and cooed over by the aforementioned angel. His angel.Anthony J. Crowley, fallen angel, the Serpent of Eden,  professional nuisance, and demon who was definitely not a little, was also lying.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Universe - Littles are Known

Anthony J. Crowley, fallen angel, the Serpent of Eden, professional nuisance, and demon who was definitely not a little, was most assuredly not jealous of the little currently seated on Aziraphale's lap. The little who was at this moment being bottle fed, looked at adoringly, and just generally being pampered, and petted, and cooed over by the aforementioned angel. His angel. 

Anthony J. Crowley, fallen angel, the Serpent of Eden, professional nuisance, and demon who was definitely not a little, was also lying. 

It has all started with a customer. In Aziraphale's opinion the best kind of customer. One who didn't want to buy his books, so much as sit down with him over a nice cup of tea and talk about his books. Aziraphale had known the man (who's name was Nathaniel though that's not particularly important) for what was either a few months or a few years now. The keeping track of time not being to important to a celestial being. And over this time Aziraphale had been introduced to Annie, who was Nathaniel's little and frequently accompanied Nathaniel to the shop. She colored or played quietly with her toys while Aziraphale and Nathaniel talked about the use of allegory in the Gothic novel or how Kindles were lovely but not as good as a real book which you could hold, smell, and taste too, if you particularly wanted to. 

Aziraphale being an angel, a being made of love, light, comfort, as well as other angel-y things and a care giver besides was immediately loved by Annie, and she often curled into his lap instead of her own daddy's when she bored of her coloring or her toys. And it was this implicit trust that Annie had for Aziraphale that prompted Nathaniel to ask Aziraphale to watch Annie for a few days while he went away to do something boring and business-y. 

Aziraphale said yes, for he had missed taking care of a little. Though he hadn't realized quite how much until a little was sat in his lap, gazing up at him with large, trusting eyes. 

Aziraphale told Crowley none of this. So it was a complete surprise to Crowley when he entered the bookshop to take Aziraphale out for sushi or maybe some nice middle eastern cuisine, he found Aziraphale on the floor with a little in the middle of what appeared to be a thrilling game of princesses and dragons. (Aziraphale was the princess, obviously) 

"Oh dear, is it Tuesday already?"

"Yes, Angel, it's Tuesday. What's this then?" He gestured to the sprawling mess of dolls and plushies. 

"Oh, I'm watching dear Annie here while her Daddy is away. I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check on dinner tonight dear boy. Why don't you stay in tonight with us? I have a nice bottle of merlot in the back."

Crowley did stay. They had dinner, sandwiches and salad for Aziraphale and Annie, and nothing for Crowley. Then after dinner drink. Wine for Aziraphale and Crowley and a bottle of milk for Annie, hand fed to her by Aziraphale as she cuddled up on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. She stared knowingly out at Crowley from behind the bottle. "Look at me," she seemed to say without words "I'm where you've longed to be for years, and unlike you I deserve to be here. I'm good enough to sit in your angel's lap and have his affection lavished on me." 

Crowley listened as Aziraphale nattered on about how nice it was to care for Annie. She was such a good girl, so quite, and imaginative, and clever. All the time he was speaking, Crowley sunk a bit lower in his seat, till he was lying half on the floor. A burning in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He definitely didn't want to be the one on Aziraphale's lap nursing a bottle, being called good and clever. No absolutely not. He was just a little put out that his friend was ignoring him so thoroughly. That was all. 

Crowley slunk down a bit further. 

Aziraphale turned up his face to look at Crowley from where he had been staring adoringly at Annie's sleeping face. Crowley straighted up, finally he thought, his angel was paying some attention to him. 

"Isn't she just the most precious thing?" Aziraphale asked. Looking at Crowley expectantly. Then he wasn't looking at Crowley anymore. He was looking at a large black and red snake. Then he was looking at a smaller red an black snake. Then he was looking at the space where a red and black snake used to be. 

"I wonder whatever is the matter with him" Aziraphale mussed. Baselines were funny sometimes, no classification to give you an idea of what they were going to do next. Aziraphale shook his head and tisked. 


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley had been Sulking (capitol S) for three days now. He had laid on the cold concrete floor of his apartment in a gangly heap of limbs and self pity. Now that he was no linger employed by the forces of hell he had all the time in the world to sulk, and he intended to do just that.

He lasted till Saturday. 

Aziraphale had called (which Crowley had ignored) and left an appalingly awkward message on his answering machine inviting him out to lunch later that day because Annie was leaving. 

Annie was leaving. Aziraphale wouldn't be changing her, or cuddling her, or playing dolls with her or looking at her with that glowing look of love and adoration (that he'd never look at Crowley with) anymore. 

Things could go back to exactly the way they were before. Which was exactly what Crowley convinced himself he wanted. 

Wanting anything else was dangerous for Crowley. Afterall even if Crowley stopped taking the slightly (very) illegal pills that suppressed his little side, there was no reason whatsoever to believe that Aziraphale would want to take care of him. Aziraphale, who until just recently could hardly stomach calling him his friend, would never want to be his caretaker. When he was little he was messy, needy, and clingy, absolutely repugnant. He wasn't even proper little shaped, too tall and bony to comfortably be carried or held. 

No, if Aziraphale ever got a little it would be someone like Annie. Small and cute, with baby fat rounded cheeks. Someone who wouldn't want to cling to Aziraphale and never let go, because they we're so small and the world was so very big and cruel, and Aziraphale was so very kind and comforting. 

So kind and comforting he'd spoiled Crowley for anyone else. Even if Crowley could bear the thought of being so vulnerable around any other living or celestial being. No one else but Aziraphale would ever do. And Aziraphale would never have him. 

So Crowley would just muddle on like he had been doing for the past six thousand years, thank you very much. The pills took most of the urges for soft toys, or pacis, or someone to cuddle away. They let him keep a clear enough head to drive the Bentley and go out to dinner with Aziraphale. They also gave him enough control over his bladder he wasn't having accidents everywhere. And when the desire to have simeine to cuddle or a soft toy or to suck his thumb overwhelmed him, he just curled up into a very, very small ball in the middle of his bed and waited for these feelings to pass, while he may or may nit have sobbed quietly. (He did) And when he forgot to miracle his bladder empty and wet his bed or pants he could just miracle them clean again and try and forget the utter humiliation he felt. He was doing just fine on his own taking care if himself thank you very much. After all he had to, no one else was going to do it for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not doing much proof reading as I write, so I'll go back and fix the glaringly obvious mistakes sometime in the future.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley fidgeted, and sulked, (small s) and glared from his position sprawled over one of Aziraphale's over stuffed chairs. 

Annie was still there. Her daddy was late, and Crowley was fuming. She gave Crowley a knowing look and snuggled up closer to the angel. Crowley glared, and contemplated for a second pulling down his dark glasses just a bit and giving her a scare. 

But then Aziraphale would be cross with him, and their first evening out together in forever (about a week) would be ruined. 

Aziraphale had just started stroking Annie's ribbon filled hair when the door to the shop chimed. Annie was lifted from her comfy perch upon Aziraphale's lap and tucked into her Daddy's arms. She and Nathaniel said their enthusiastic hellos, and exchanged kisses, before Anne was put down on the sofa and Nathaniel and Aziraphale excused themselves to the other room to talk. 

"You never told me you had a little if your own. I wouldn't have asked you to look after Annie if I knew." 

Aziraphale looked perplexed. "Dear boy, you must be mistaken, I don't have a little."

Nathaniel lifted an eyebrow. "The red head in the other room? " They both turned to look back at the other room where Crowley was squirming impatiently in his seat and glaring at Annie, who glared right back. 

"No, Crowley may be a bit childish at times, but he's a baseline."

Now it was Nathaniel's turn to look confused. "Are you sure? There's just something about him."

"Oh, I'm sure. " said Aziraphale with a little more confidence than he felt. "We've known each other a very long time, and well, I'd know wouldn't I?"

Nathaniel shrugged, and Aziraphale contemplated. This wasn't the first time that someone had mistook Crowley for a little, but It was the first time that Aziraphale was considering that maybe they weren't entirely wrong. There was just something about the way Crowley had been acting lately that made Aziraphale a bit suspicious. And since Crowley wasn't likely to give him a straight answer if he asked (he never did when it came to things like this) he would just have to find out on his own.


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley was going to take a nap. For the average human this meant about a couple of hours of sleep. For Crowley this could mean a couple days to a century of sleep. He was thinking this time, of a nice short kip of a couple weeks. (The whole apocalypse business had been a bit stressful) Since even he could not expect his plants to keep up to his rigorous standards for them without water for such a period of time, he would need someone to mist them. And there was only one being in the whole of creation that he trusted to be in his apartment while he slept. 

While Aziraphale was not particularly happy about Crowley taking another nap. (He had missed him during the 19th century) He recognized it for the opportunity it was. Not to snoop, mind you. Angels most certainly didn't snoop. But to collect valuable information about the current goings-on of his dearest friends life. 

Aziraphale really was worried for Crowley. Littles needed love, affection, and care, things that Crowley had gotten precious little of in his existence even for a baseline. And if he was a little, well Aziraphale didn't like to think of it. He couldn't stand to think of   
a little Crowley so alone and unloved for so long. 

If Crowley was a little, Aziraphale reasoned, he would probably have comfort items stashed somewhere in his apartment. So if Aziraphale could just find a stash of pacis or stuffed toys, or a baby blanket or blocks, or something, well then he would know for certain, wouldn't he? 

He watered Crowley's plants first. Because he was an angel, and he kept his promises. (He was also entirely too nice to them, Crowley would be appalled) Then he found the bedroom just to make certain Crowley was asleep. He was. Only a shock of red hair sticking out from a pile of dark colored covers.(he resisted the urge to go over and tuck Crowley in, and place a gentle kiss on his forehead) Then he began his quest. 

Crowley's apartment was horrendously barren and cold. There we're no bottles or sippys in the kitchen, no glasses or plates or food either, barring a basket of apples. (Aziraphale suspected theses were for aesthetic purposes only) 

There was very little in the way of decoration or places to sit. (A throne? Really Crowley?) In addition to having no little comforts, Crowley seemed to allow himself no ordinary comforts either save his bed. Aziraphale had been through most of Crowley's apartment now, and had not found a single thing that would point to Crowley being a little. He had even searched Crowley's bedroom aided by a couple miracles to make sure Crowley didn't wake. He had found nothing, absolutely nothing. 

Aziraphale shivered it was cold in Crowley's apartment. Absolutely UN suitable for a cold blood demon such as Crowley. Next winter Aziraphale was going to see if he couldn't get Crowley to come and stay with him in the bookshop where it was warm and cozy. 

Aziraphale meandered into the last place in Crowley's apartment he hadn't looked without any real hope he would find anything. It was a very nice bathroom as far as bathrooms went Aziraphale supposed. He opened the closet, which was empty. Then he opened the medicine cabinet, which was not. 

Rows upon rows of little suppressant drugs lined the shelves. Suppressant drugs that were both very strong and very illegal. 

"Oh dear" said Aziraphale.


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale felt a bit ill. Even though he was a celestial being and he was fairly certain it was relatively impossible for him to actually be ill. 

Crowley had been taking suppressants, probably for centuries now. Before the pills there were powders and tonics, and before those there were herbal concoctions. 

Aziraphale understood Crowley's need to hide his true nature around the other demons. He even understood a little why Crowley had kept it from him all these years. But ever since the apocalypse, they were free. There was no reason for Crowley to hide anymore. The only think that had prevented Aziraphale from developing a more intimate relationship with Crowley was that their classifications didn't match. And even if Crowley didn't want a closer relationship with Aziraphale, surely he knew that Aziraphale would welcome him with open arms and be happy to play with and care for him when ever he needed it. If only as a babysitter instead of a caregiver. 

Obviously for some reason Crowley felt he still had to hide around Aziraphale. Well, Aziraphale was just going to have to show him that that wasn't the case. 

He knew Crowley well enough to know that if he brought the topic up directly Crowley would probably turn into a snake and slither into some tiny crevice somewhere for the foreseeable future or actually pack up and run away to Alpha Centuari. 

If Aziraphale was going to be successful he was going to have to be subtle. So he checked in on Crowley one last time. And if he did place a gentle kiss on the top Crowley's messy red hair, only he had to know. Then the angel set off, because after all he had preparations to make before Crowley work up. 

Aziraphale didn't know exactly what age Crowley was as a little. He rather suspected he was very, very young due to the strength of the suppressants he was taking. So he stocked up on bottles and sippies and pacifiers, all in reds and blacks, and greys. Colors Crowley would like. A few packs of diapers and pull ups, (he really did suspect that Crowley would be very little) as well as all the powders, creams, and lotions that would be needed with them. He purchased great heaps of blankets and cushions, again in colors Crowley would like. A few toys that made pleasings sounds or played music when you fiddled with them. And finally two plush bears. One a white angel (who he added a stylish little tartan bow to) and the other a red demon. 

Armed with his purchases, Aziraphale headed back to the bookshop. Most of his shopping was tucked away for use in the (hopefully not to distant) future but most of the cushions and blankets, as well as the angel bear were piled on his most comfy sofa. And a single red pacifier was set on the sofa's end table. 

Now all Aziraphale had to do was wait for Crowley to wake up.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley sauntered into the bookshop for the first time after his little nap. His plants were lush and green, the world hadn't ended, and his angel was waiting patiently in his bookshop for Crowley to take him out to dinner. Crowley's only current complaint was thatbthe weather was getting bit rainy and nippy. But all and all Crowley was as happy a demon as he had ever been. (his standard of happiness it should be noted was not particular high) 

So obviously something terrible was going to happen. 

"What' Crowley drawled "Is that?"

"A teddy bear dear, surely you've seen one before. They have been around since the early 1900s I believe." 

"I've seen a bloody teddy bear before angel, but why's it here?"

Aziraphale turned from the manuscript he was doing something with, and peered over the glasses over the reading glasses he didn't need. "I picked it up in the shop the other day, I rather thought it was darling." Aziraphale gestured towards the sofa, which seemed to have sprouted a mound of cushions and blankets that Crowley didn't remember being there before. "Do sit down dear boy, I'll be a minute. I have to finish this up before we go. 

Crowley slunk to the sofa, and when he sat down he immediately sunk into the cashmere softness of blankets. And he melted into the softness, splaying himself over the entirety of the sofa. It was nice, and warm. And if he nuzzled his cheek into the blankets, well Aziraphale's back was turned to him and he couldn't possibly see. 

He contemplated running a hand thought the soft looking fur of the teddy, which did so look like his angel with it's little tartan bow. But he had better self control than than that. He knew if he touched it, he'd want to hold it. Then want would Aziraphale turn around to see but him cuddling his plush toy. And surely his angel would have questions about that. Best not to risk it. 

After while Crowley got rather bored of laying on the sofa with his eyes closed and basking in the warmth. He opened his eyes and begin to examine the familiar clutter of the bookshop. It always brought him comfort to be here, to see all of the comfortable things his Angel had surrounded himself with over the years. Looking around also assured him that the bookshop was still there, not burning up in flames. And his angel was there too, amongst his books exactly where he was supposed to be. 

It was only by chance that when Crowley turned his head a little to make sure his angel was still there that a flash of red caught his eye. It was a pacifier, sitting innocently on the end table. Probably one of Annie's, left over from Aziraphale's adventures in babysitting. Maybe Aziraphale himself hadn't noticed it was left there. It was sitting just out of plain sight, squashed a little between a lamp and a book

Would it be so bad if Crowley just reached out and stuck it in his pocket? Maybe took it home and pretended, just pretended that Aziraphale had bought it just for him? He'd never had a pacifier before. In a few moments of weakness (and often when he was sleeping) he would suck on his thumb. Which was but well his thumb was rather long and bony. He imagined Aziraphale gently removing his thumb from his mouth and replacing it with the paci. Just like he had seen Aziraphale do for Annie. Aziraphale would pet his hair and smile lovingly at him. Maybe hold out the angel bear for Crowley to hold. 

Crowley jerked himself upright. His thoughts we're headed in a dangerous direction. He stood up to pester Aziraphale that it had been long enough and he wanted to go out to dinner now. 

Without his really meaning to, Crowley's fingers closed around the little plastic item, and swiftly tucked it into his jacket pocket, before whining to Aziraphale. 

Later that night, Aziraphale would notice a pacifier missing from his side table and smile. While simultaneously in a rather cold cement apartment Crowley would be having a staring contest with a piece of red plastic until he reached out with long fingers to grasp it, bring it to his mouth, and finally give a tentative suck.


	7. Chapter 7

Aziraphale hadn't intended for things to work out this way. But he couldn't say he was particularly upset that they had. 

London had been experiencing a string of particularly dreary weather, even for London. To cheer things up a bit, Aziraphale thought he'd take a walk in the park and feed the ducks. Of course this meant taking Crowley along as well. Things were never quite as nice when he didn't have Crowley along. 

Crowley didn't particularly like the cold, something Aziraphale had noted over the years (something to do with being a snake he figured) and besides the time spent as Nanny Ashtoreth, Aziraphale couldn't recall ever seeing him in the wintertime. Today though it didn't seem to yet be too cold for the coldblooded Crowley. That is untill it started to rain. 

It was a nasty sort of rain that seemed to sneak up on them with very little prior warning. Huge freezing raindrops pelted down upon them with alarming force. Icy wind ripped past them, and thunder boomed in the distance. Crowley was looking more and more pale (with an alarming blueish tinge) as they scurried for home. By the time they had made it too the bookshop, Aziraphale was practically carrying Crowley. poor Crowley who's eyes were driving around lazy and unfocused as violent shivers racked his thin frame. 

Aziraphale had read a Beginners Guide to Herpetology for just such an occasion, and knew just what to do. 

He gathered all the blankets he had bought for Crowley off the sofa and hurried upstairs. He miracled the rather thick layer of dust off his bed, and piled the blankets on. Next he miracles up a tlrather mage heat lamp and pointed it towards the bed. He then scurried back down and carried up Crowley. 

Crowley really was unnaturally light and painfully thin. Aziraphale wondered if he could coax him into taking a few bites from his plate the next time they went out to eat. 

He miracled Crowley out of hus freezung wet cloths and into a fuzzy black sweater, grey, red, and black tartan pajama pants, (tartan was stylish) and fuzzy black socks. He would have preferred to get Crowley into a nice set of footie pajamas, but well he didn't think that would go over well just yet. 

Aziraphale miracled his own pajamas on (a nice cream and pale blue tartan) and laid down in bed arranging Crowley on top of him, and the mound of blankets on top of Crowley. As an afterthought, he miracled up the angel teddy to tuck into one of Crowley's arms. Very soon Crowley's thumb found it's way into his mouth. Aziraphale begin to stroke bright red hair as Crowley's shivering subsided and his breathing evened out. 

When Crowley woke up he found he was deliciously warm. He remembered being very cold and wasn't exactly sure why he was warm now, but he wasn't going to complain. His head was still quite foggy and his thoughts were all muddled. The thing underneath his was so plush and warm. He was so warm. He wiggled into the warmth further, so warm and wet. Wet. WET. WET! 

The think he was lying on moved, and begin to stroke his hair. Aziraphale's voice washed over him. "Oh there we are dear boy. I'm glad to see you awake. Don't worry darling it's understandable, you were so ill. No harm done. I'll just clean you right up, you'll see."

Crowley felt his pants and the bed become dry again. But it didn't really make things all that better. He hadn't just wet his pants or his bed this time, he had wet on Aziraphale! He had wet on his angel! He burried his face (which was now a shade of red that matched his hair) into Aziraphale's ample midsection.

Forget Hell, forget the apocalypse, this was his worst nightmare. He could absolutely never show his face to his angel again. He would have to move to Alpha Centuari after all. Though come to think of it, it really wasn't quite as bad as he feared. Aziraphale hadn't seemed disgusted or disappointed like Crowley thought he would be. Aziraphale thought that Crowley's accident had only happened because he was a ill. So Aziraphale didn't suspect that Crowley was a little at all! Maybe he wouldn't have to go to Alpha Centuari. Maybe he could just snuggle back down into the warmth of his angel again. After all, when would he ever have another chance to be this close with Aziraphale again?


	8. Chapter 8

The storm raged on outside the bookshop. Weathermen made very inaccurate predictions about how long it would last. Some people thought it was a sign of the apocalypses, others though it was the result of global warming. All of these people were wrong. 

Inside the bookshop Aziraphale was fussing endlessly over Crowley. Who started feeling rather sluggish if he was away from the warmth of Aziraphale or the heat lamp for too long. Since Crowley had woken up for a second time Aziraphale hadn't left his side which was slightly inconvenient for Crowley as he really needed another dose of little suppressant quite soon. He couldn't even miracle one up with Aziraphale plastered to his side. Quite literally, Aziraphale had taken to holding Crowley very close no matter where he was or what he was doind so that Crowley always had a source of heat. 

Not that Crowley was complaining. Actually he was, but it was half hearted at best. He was soaking up the attention as much as the warmth from his angel. He knew that this fussing would end as soon as the rain did, and it warmed up to snake sustaining temperatures once more. 

He worried a bit about what would happen if he missed a few doses of suppressant, he had been talking the for an awfully long time now. But in the end he decided it wasn't wort leaving the warm glow of Aziraphale's care and concern for. After all what was the worst that could happen? If he acted a bit oddly or someone forbid, had another accident, he could just blame it on being under the weather with the sudden cold like he had before. Aziraphale would never know the difference. 

Aziraphale however, did know the difference. He had watched as Crowley became more quite and clingy over the course of the day. He only complained a handful of times about Aziraphale's insistace, (after a slightly alarming incident where Crowley tried to leave the bookshop after he woke up an returned a few minutes later an alarming shade of blue) that Crowley never leave his sight. He even ate half of the soup Aziraphale spoon fed him, though he did glare the entire time. 

Aziraphale had sneaking suspicions that his demon really wasn't very good at taking care of himself. Snakes needed special sorts of attention, a tempature controlled environment, nice cozy places to burrow into, regular feeding and watering. And a snake was essentialy Crowley was in this form, just an oddly human shaped one. Combine that with his needs as a little, and it was obvious that Crowley had needed special attention and care. Attention and care that Aziraphale feared Crowley had never received before and must be absolutely desperate for. 

He certainly seemed to have settled in relatively nicely to Aziraphale's ministrations. Crowley had spent most of the day cuddled up to Aziraphale either on the bed or the bookshop sofa, half dozing as Aziraphale read aloud from a book of fairy tales. When Crowley was awake Aziraphale brought a cup of milky tea to Crowley's lips and tipped it back so he could drink. Snakes were, or so he had read, particularly susceptible to dehydration when it was cold. He wiped the little trickle of tea that inevitably would run down Crowley's chin away with a tartan hankie. Wistful for the day that he could use a bottle without the fear of Crowley running off to another galaxy for his troubles. 

Having been feeding Crowley large quantiles of tea and soups all day, Aziraphale felt he should have predicted the event that happened that evening on the bookshop sofa. 

He was reading aloud to a slightly awake Crowley, when he felt a little trickle of warmth against his thigh. Un bothered he continued reading as the warmth steadly grew, until somwhere in his brain it registered that the warmth was also wet. Then in short order he realized the cause of the warm wetness, even before Crowley did. He scooped Crowley up before he has a chance to start fussing, and carried him up to the bed room. Aziraphale then arranged himself and Crowley onto the bed so that Crowley was cradled securely in his arms. 

"Darling" Aziraphale began. "I know you aren't well, and even if you were it isn't something I'd ever be cross with you for, but maybe it would be best if we put you in some protection? Just for now, hmm?"

While that was what Aziraphale said, what Crowley heard was "I'm getting awful tired of you peeing on me"

"No" Crowley mumbled and tried to wiggle himself free, but Aziraphale kept a firm grip in him. 

Aziraphale placed a kiss on the top of Crowley's head. "I just don't want you to be uncomfortable. And you are uncomfortable when it happens aren't you dear?"

Red faced, Crowley nodded into Aziraphale's chest. 

"You will be brave for me, won't you."

Crowley really wanted to say no. He had never worn a diaper before. Even before when the elixirs and tonics didn't work as well and his pants and bed seemed to be more often wet than dry. But this was Aziraphale who was asking, and really when it came down to it, was there anything in all of creation that Crowley wouldn't do for his angel? He nodded his head "yes."

"Oh very good!" Aziraphale exclaimed, sounding genuinely delighted. 

In one swift motion, Crowley found himself lying on his back on what he could only imagine was a changing pad,being creamed and powdered. Then before he knew it a thick fluffy diaper patterned with planets and stars was being pulled up between his legs.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley's pajamas bottoms back up, and patted him on the leg. He smiled down gently, "There we are dear boy, all comfy now." 

Crowley just glared. 

Aziraphale smiled brighter.


	9. Chapter 9

After Crowley's accident and subsequent diapering, the day continued on just as it had before. Only now Crowley was doing significantly more pouting. Thought it was hard to be too cross all snuggled up next to his angel. 

He dozed alot, though he didn't dream, the feeling of warmth and comfort following him into his sleep. 

The storm had let up for a bit in the evening only to start up again a couple of hour later. Aziraphale had absolutely no intention of letting out of his sight until the storm was well and truly gone, then maybe not for a long time after that as well. Caring for Crowley and having him constantly with him, had brought Aziraphale a sort of peace and fulfilment he had never known before, and he would be loath to give that up. 

When Crowley was a little more awake, Aziraphale had given him some markers and paper to occupy himself with while he read something that Crowley, and indeed pretty much any other being living or celestial would find dreadfully boring. 

Crowley begin by writing out a list of every swear word he knew, in every language he knew. (Which was all of them) Then he moved on to drawing all of the rude and naught things he could think of. (Which was alot) When he tired of that he tried to very stealthy write 'property of Anthony J. Crowley' on Aziraphale's arm. Aziraphale humored him, and pretended he didn't notice until Crowley finished. Then he looked down at his arm and promptly stole the pen from Crowley's hand and wrote 'property of Aziraphale" on Crowley's arm. Which elicited honest to someone giggles out of the demon. Aziraphale than proceeded to tickle his naughty charge into absolute hysterics. 

After Aziraphale forced another bowl of soup down his throat, (gently spooned into his mouth) he announced that it was time for bed. Crowley opened one yellow eye. "You don't sleep."

"I thought I might try it dear. Will you come and keeo me company?"

Crowley gave a sleepy nod. "It wouldn't do for his angel to be lonely after all."

Crowley snuggled into Aziraphale's shoulder as he was carries up to bed. Aziraphale laid him on the bed, and swiftly tugged his pajama pants off his spindly legs exposing a very wet diaper. "No!" Crowley jumped up a placed his hands in front of the diaper. 

"Dear, what's this about? You need a new diaper before bed."

Crowley shook his head. "You said it was only once!"

"No dear, I said it was until you didn't need them anymore."

Crowley crossed his arms and glared. "I don't need diapers." This however is a rather unconvincing argument to make while you are standing with your currently very wet and sagging diaper on full display. 

Aziraphale gave a pointed look at Crowley's yellowed diaper. "All of your stars and planets have gone blue"

Crowley looked down at his diaper, the once yellow planted and star had indeed gone blue. He looked at Aziraphale with questioning scrunch of his eyebrows. 

Aziraphale beamed at him. "Oh isn't it a clever little trick? They go from yellow to blue when you wet."

It was admittedly, thought Crowley poking at his diaper, pretty cool. 

Aziraphale reached out for Crowley. "Now come here darling, and I'll get you in a lovely new one with the stars all yellow again."

Crowley scurried out of his reach. His back hit the corner and he slid to the floor, and brought he knobby knees up to his face so he could rest his forehead on them. "No, don't want you to change me"

"Oh" said Aziraphale sounding rather hurt. 

"It's yucky." Crowley hastened to add, not wanting his angel to think he didn't want him. That Crowley wouldn't prefer him over anyone or anything in all of creation. "And you shouldn't have to."

"And probably don't want to" Though Crowley didn't say that aloud. 

Aziraphale's face softened. "Is that all? Crowley darling is only wee, it's just your body doing what bodies do. I don't mind at all. You're very dear to me, and I just want to make sure you're comfortable and happy and well looked after. So won't you come here and let me do that?" He held out his arms invitingly. 

Crowley couldn't just sit there with his angel asking for a hug like that. So he got up and scurried into his arms. 

Aziraphale held his little demon for a long while, then placed a kiss on the top of his ginger hair and laid him down on the changing mat. He swiftly got rid of the old diaper, wiped him down, powdered him up, and taped Crowley up in a nice new one. Once he was done, Aziraphale gave Crowley's belly a soft kiss, just above the waistband of his diaper. 

He then tucked them both into bed. Before long Crowley's thumb had found its way into his mouth once again. And Aziraphale decided to do what he'd been wanting to do all day. He gently pulled Crowley's thumb out, and replaced it with a pacifier he miracled up. As soon as Crowley latched on he started suckling and seemed to melt further into Aziraphale in complete relaxation. 

For a while Aziraphale just stared adoringly down at the sleeping Crowley, his pacifier bobbing gently between his lips and his soft breaths tickling Aziraphale's neck. Before he too drifted off.


	10. Chapter 10

The sun shone over London once again. Though by the predictions of all the Weathermen but one (named Farrah Fahrenheit, who had wanted to be a taxidermist instead) would not do so for long. A second storm was on the horizon. (metaphorically as well, but we'll get to that later) 

Though for the moment it had warmed up quite nicely in the wake of the storm. Though the weather was still overall cool, the sun now shown down, it's rays warming whatever they happened to touch. 

It seemed to have perked Crowley right up. He was, much to Aziraphale's dismay progressively becoming less sleepy, cuddly, and willing to be carried. And he was now absolutely insisting that he go back to his flat to tend to his plants before the rest of the storm came through. Aziraphale was absolutely panicked at the thought of Crowley leaving. Though he didn't feel he could at this point insist Crowley stay, or force his company on Crowley for the trip. (He had multiple times offered and suggested that he go with) 

Crowley was a stubborn little demon though. So all Aziraphale could do was to try an make sure Crowley was as best prepared for the trip out as he could be, and wait for him to arrive home safely. Crowley had absolutely refused to wear a diaper outside of the bookshop, but Aziraphale had managed to talk him into a pull up. Assuring him multiple times that absolutely no one could see it under his clothes. 

He wrapped Crowley up in a jacket and scarf. Though he knew it wouldn't really do him any good, as Crowley didn't produce any body heat of his own. It made him feel better to do it. He made sure Crowley had his cell phone (which always remained fully charged simply because it was expected to do so) so that he could call if anything happened. 

Aziraphale watched with worry from the front of his book shop as Crowley walked away. Even though Crowley must have made the trip from Aziraphale's bookshop to his flat hundreds of times over the centuries, Aziraphale worried. Crowley was the most precious thing he had, and they had made such tentative progress the past day. He couldn't help but feel that Crowley was rather vulnerable at the moment, and he worried. 

Crowley would absolutely never call himself vulnerable, no matter how apt a term it was for him. He was an impenetrable fortress. (Except when it came to his angel where in he was more like a pillow fort) 

The first thing Crowley did after entering his apartment ( which he managed to get to all by himself, thank you very much) was to make a dash to the bathroom and pop open one of the many pill bottles lining the shelves and dry swallow one. He than stuck the bottle in his coat pocket, and went to tend to his plants. (Tend here means to mist and yell at them) 

Little suppressants were illegal for a reason, besides being detrimental to the overall health and wellbeing of a little, it was a very jarring and unpleasant experience to be pulled out of one's natural headspace. Crowley had, without realizing it, been falling into headspace. So when the suppressants kicked in about half an hour later, the did so with all the finesse of a charging heard of cattle and practicaly knocked Crowley off his feet. 

He dropped the plant mister and slunk to the floor. He was overcome with massive waves of shame that threatened to drown him. What had he done. What had he done! Aziraphale, good, sweet, kind, lovely Aziraphale, had been forced to take care of his sorry self. Had cleaned up his messes and changed his diapers, put up with his endless pathetic clinging. 

Aziraphale was nice about it sure. Aziraphale was always nice. Aziraphale would probably still be nice to you if you were trying to dip his hands in hellfire.(though not if you were trying to buy one of his books) But Crowley should never have put him in that position in the first place. Never made him care for him like the pathetic useless thing he was. Next time the weather turned bad, and Crowley got hypothermia he would just crawl back to his apartment and suffer in silence like he should. 

Tremors racked Crowley's thin body. He felt Ill now in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. He obviously couldn't go back to the bookshop. He couldn't face Aziraphale after what he had put him through. Maybe in a couple hundred years he could get up the nerve to go and see his angel again, and maybe they would just pretend that this dreadful event had never happened. (Though Crowley was sure it would take at least another thousand or so years to not feel a deep sense of shame every time he so much as thought of Aziraphale) 

Crowley curled up in the fetal position in his cement floor. He periodically shook with the force of his sobs. He wasn't quite crying exactly. Afterall he didn't actually have tear ducts. But it was as close as he could come to it.


	11. Chapter 11

Crowley was miserable, he'd ben lying on his cold concrete floor for hours now. Sometime during his sobbing he'd thoroughly soaked his pull up once again (having already wet it once without really noticing on the walk to his apartment) and it had leaked. Forming wet marks down the legs of his pats which had long since become cold, clammy, and uncomfortable. He was freezing and miserable, and Crowley had no intention to do anything to better his situation. He deserved to be miserable, he thought, and curled up tighter. He would just say here till he rotted. Till he grew mold. Till he was more skin and bones than he already was. 

Meanwhile in the bookshop Aziraphale was fretting terribly. It had been hours since Crowley had gone. The sky was becoming increasing dark and ominous, and that cement apartment was no place for someone cold blooded to be when the weather turned nippy. 

He was trying to be patient, not to smother Crowley, but with every passing moment he imagined more and more dreadful things happing to his demon. His mind had gone from : Is Crowley warm enough? Does he need a change? Has he gotten lost? To : What if Hell or Heaven had come for him. 

He really couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his coat and headed for Crowley's apartment. 

Crowley heard the door open and Aziraphale's voice call out to him. His blood ran cold. (Er, colder than it already was that is) He couldn't let his angel see him like this. So Crowley did what Crowley often did when he was in a pinch. He turned into a snake, and slithered somewhere no one could find him. 

Somewhere no one but Aziraphale could find him apparently. It was as if Aziraphale possesed some sort of Crowley homing device. It only took a few minutes of the angel poking around to find him coiled up behind a plant. 

Aziraphale placed his hand on his chest and sighed in relief. "Oh there you are dear boy. Ready to go home now?"

As much as he wished it was, the bookshop was not on fact Crowley's home, and he had no intention of going back there and forcing his angel to play nursemaid to his sorry self. He shook his little snake head "no." 

"You want to stay here? Darling, I'm not sure, it really is quite cold and there isn't anyplace for us to sit." 

Crowley shook his head "no" again. His angel wasn't meant to stay here either! Couldn't he just go? Leave Crowley alone like he should be? 

"I don't suppose that you'd like to change back?"

A very vigorous head shake "no."

A crack of lightning shook the air, and the thunder that followed reverberated ominously through London. 

"Dear I really must insist you come back with me." Aziraphale held out an arm for Crowley to slither up. 

Crowley took stock of his options. He could just stay here, but then Aziraphale would stay too and he would be cold and uncomfortable in Crowley's barren apartment. Or he could go to the Bookshop and Aziraphale would no doubt try and look after him again. Bcause that's what angels did wasn't it, tend to the wretched? Or, (and this was a really splendid idead if Crowley did say so himself) Crowley could go back to the bookshop with Aziraphale, but he could just stay a snake. 

What did he need as a snake? Just a semi warm little crevice to curl up in and wait out the storm. Aziraphale need not care for him at all! He would be very good and not make a bit of trouble for his angel when he'd already made so much before. And when this was all over, he'd find some way to make it all up to Aziraphale. 

Resolute now in his course of action, Crowley uncoiled and slithered up Aziraphale's arm.


	12. Chapter 12

Something was terribly wrong, and it had been ever since Crowley went out. It wasn't that he was a snake now. Aziraphale didn't mind that in the least. If for whatever reason Crowley felt more comfortable as a snake, well then Aziraphale was happy to take care of him in that form as well. And he did make a rather adorable snake with a lovely little snoot that Aziraphale would just love to boop. 

It was however the way that Crowley was acting as a snake that was troubling him. Aziraphale had thought that they might set up on the sofa like they had been doing. He thought that Crowley might enjoy being draped around Aziraphale's neck as he read aloud. However the instant Aziraphale set foot back in the bookshop Crowley had slithered down and was off like a shot. 

It took Aziraphale ages to find him in the stacks of books. When he did finally manage to get settled on the sofa, Crowley slithered off again. 

Aziraphale thought that maybe Crowley was too warm wrapped around him, so he fetched a wicker basket. Which he filled with some if the soft blankets he had bought for Crowley as well as the angel and demon teddies, so that Crowley might have something to coil himself around if he pleased. 

Aziraphale had again fetched his wayward demon and placed him in the basket. Crowley looked rapturously happy for a few moments, his darling little snake eyes widened as he wriggled down into the cashmere blanket. (Aziraphale had standards for Crowley since it seemed he had so few for himself) The he stilled, gave Aziraphale the saddest most pitiful look a snake could possibly give and slithered away again. 

Maybe what Crowley needed was a little space. So Aziraphale would give Crowley space. He let Crowley curl himself up in some obscure nook and didn't bother him until he thought that the demon might be getting a bit peckish, and really ought to drink something as well.

Crowley refused when Aziraphale peeped into his hidey hole and asked if he wanted anything. Then when Aziraphale brought him something anyway he wouldn't take it. He just hid his little head between his coils. This happened several times over the course if the day and Aziraphale was beside himself. 

He wasn't too worried about Crowley not eating, but snakes we're at a particularly high risk for dehydration when it got cold. And while Crowley couldn't die per say he could certainly still suffer. 

It must, thought Aziraphale, be something he did or was doing wrong. He racked his brain for ideas of what he might have done to make the demon frightened or uncomfortable. But he just didn't know. If only Crowley would talk to him, tell him what he did wrong, and how he could fix it. That was the thing about Crowley though, he never talked about anything important. At least not when it came to himself. 

All these centuries, he had been talking care of Aziraphale. Saving him from revolutions and spies, making sure his books were safe taking him out to dinner, scaring particularly persistent customers away from the shop. Now the one time when he tried to take care of Crowley a little, give something back to him after all the giving Crowley had been doing for six thousand years, he went and mucked it all up. 

Now Crowley was sad, or frightened, or something. Aziraphale really didn't know. He just wanted to make it up to Crowley, whatever it was that he'd done to put him in such a state. Then have Crowley all tucked up in his arms warm and safe where he ought to be. 

He was beginning to wonder if this had all been such a good idea. Maybe he wasn't the best caregiver for Crowley. Maybe he should look for someone else. Someone who wouldn't make Crowley feel like he had to slither away and hide. Someone who could love his kind, mischievous, demon the way he deserved to be loved. The way Aziraphale apparently couldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I was really wicked, I would just end the whole thing here.


	13. Chapter 13

Crowley had spent the day making himself as unobtrusive and un bothersome to his angel as he could. He didn't fall into the trap of curling up with Aziraphale in the sofa, or snuggling down into that deliciously soft basket. Instead he simply curled up out of the way and tried to be as unobtrusive as demonly possible. 

As a snake, Crowley didn't urinate the way he did as a human. Instead of pee he excreted a whitle chalky substance. But that didn't particularly matter. He wasn't going to make his angel go from cleaning up his human messes to his snake messes. His plan was simple, if he didn't eat or drink anything, he couldn't forget to miracle it away before he made a mess. Aziraphale wouldn't have to clean anything up and they'd both be happy. Well, Aziraphale would be happy. And Aziraphale's happiness made Crowley happy. 

Crowley wriggled, trying to make himself comfortable on the cool wooden floor. He wondered if he could possibley sneak one of those wonderfully soft blankets over here. But it seemed just now like far to big of a task to undertake. 

He really was rather bored. He missed Aziraphale reading aloud to him. They had been in the middle of the Little Prince when Crowley had left to water his plants. He wondered if he would ever find out how it ended now. He supposed he could get (shoplift) a copy for himself. But his snake eyes weren't well suited to reading. Stories seemed so much better when Aziraphale read them anyway. 

With a sigh, he rested his head in his coils. There was nothing else to do, he might as well sleep. So he slept, and he dreamed. 

Crowley was sitting cross legged on a he floor of the bookshop. He was surrounded by Annie's toys, but they weren't Annie's they we're his. He was concentrating very intently on building a very tall and very wobbly castle out of blocks, so that he could throw his stuffed dragon at it and watch it satisfyingly crash to the floor. 

Someone snuck up behind him and pressed a kiss into his hair. 

"Are you almost done playing dear?" Aziraphale gently carded his hand through Crowley's hair. 

Crowley nodded, not bothering to try and speak around his pacifier. 

He launched his dragon at the castle, blocks noisily clattering to the ground. As so as he was finished he was scooped up into Aziraphale's arms. 

Aziraphale arranged them on the sofa so that Crowley's head was resting on Aziraphale's shoulder. He gently pried the paci out from Crowley's mouth. Before Crowley had the chance to fuss about the loss of his beloved paci a spoon was gently placed in his open mouth. Crowley didn't know what it was, but it did taste rather nice. So he swallowed the mush, burrowed down further in Aziraphale's arms, and opened his mouth again. 

After Crowley was fed, and getting rather sleepy, the rubber teat of a bottle was placed in his mouth. He suckled the sweet creamy milk half asleep. About halfway through the bottle he could feel his diaper grow warm and wet, but it didn't matter. Aziraphale was there, smiling down at him with love and adoration, the way he had smiled down at Annie. Crowley knew that so long as Aziraphale was there smiling like that everything would be alright in the end. 

Then Crowley woke up to find that Aziraphale was indeed staring at him. One blue eye pressed against the opening to his little hidey hole. It wasn't a stare full of love and adoration however. Instead his angel looked sad and resigned. They stared at each other for a minuet, blue eye meeting yellow. Than Aziraphale spoke. 

"Crowley we need to talk."


	14. Chapter 14

"We need to talk." 

Crowley's little snake heart plummeted somewhere to the region of his tail. 

Crowley was certain that never in the history of the world had anything good ever come after those words. Whatever Aziraphale was going to say next most assuredly wouldn't be anything Crowley wanted to hear. And Crowley had the nasty, sneaking suspicion that he knew what Aziraphale wanted to talk about. 

He wouldn't even be mean about it. Because Aziraphale was too good to be mean, even though he must be getting rather cross with Crowley by now. 

Crowley could picture the conversation, which would go something like this, "Crowley dear, I know we've been seeing more of each other after the apocalypse that wasn't actually the apocalypse. But really this is a bit much isn't it? And you have been making quite a mess. So when this storm is over, why don't you pop back to yours for a bit? Maybe we can meet up for dinner again in a couple decades."

And Crowley would be alone again, just like that. Because he couldn't stop being little, and weak, and needy no matter how many suppressants he took or how hard he tried to pretend he wasn't. 

Aziraphale was holding a hand out towards Crowley. Slowly Crowley uncoiled and slithered towards him. Feeling very much like a condemned man making his last walk to the gallows. 

Aziraphale set Crowley down on one end of the sofa, then sat down on the opposite. Outside of Crowley's recent brush with hypothermia, he and Aziraphale had hardly ever touched over the centuries. Though Aziraphale had never seemed further away from Crowley as he was at this moment. 

The silence stretched on between them. Aziraphale looked like he was trying very hard to think of all the right words to say. While Crowley hunkered down as if he expected a physical blow.   
When Aziraphale saw this, the sadness in his eyes deepened immeasurably. He lifted his had as if to reach out and touch Crowley, but his hand paused in mid air, twitched, and returned to his side. 

"Crowley dear, I'm afraid I've done something terribly wrong."

Crowley flicked his forked tongue in confusion. Of Course Aziraphale hadn't done anything wrong. Aziraphale was an angel. The best angel. The only good one of the lot. He couldn't do anything wrong! (Except maybe pop into France dressed an aristocrat during the French revolution for crepes. Or getting himself inconveniently discorperated. But those we're just little personality quirks really.) 

Aziraphale continued on. "You know you really are my dearest friend Crowley. And I did so want to take care of you for once, but I fear I've made a dreadful mess of it."

This wasn't going at all like Crowley thought it would, and he was thoroughly and utterly confused. Made a mess of things. Aziraphale didn't make a mess of things, that was what Crowley did. 

Meanwhile Aziraphale was still babbling on. 

"So I wonder, Crowley dear, if you wouldn't be happiest, or that is to say happier, somewhere else? With someone else?"

That was more like it Crowley thought, Aziraphale's very polite version of 'it's not you, it's me. But whoever it is please leave.' 

Crowley slunk of the sofa, and became significantly more human shaped. He figited and squirmed a little, he had forgotten that his pants were wet and they we're presently very cold, itchy, and stuck uncomfortably to his legs. He couldn't bear to look at his angel, so he kept his yellow gaze affixed to his snake skin boots. 

"Of course angel." He mumbled, and bolted for the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Well, that hadn't gone at all as Aziraphale had intended. Aziraphale was really rather alarmed. Crowley hadn't actually talked to him at all. He had expected that they could either fix whatever Aziraphale was doing that troubled Crowley so, and Aziraphale could continue on taking care of him. (The far superior option in Aziraphale's mind) Or they could see about finding someone that Crowley would feel more comfortable with. (An option that made Aziraphale feel a bit nauseous, if he was being honest) 

Aziraphale would of course, continue to look after Crowley until they found someone more suitable. He hadn't expected Crowley to bolt out the door like a frightened rabbit. It was almost as if Aziraphale had chased him out with a broom, and oh. Oh. That was what he had done wasn't it. 

Not chaced Crowley out with a broom, but asked him to leave. That's what it must have sounded like to Crowley. 'Wouldn't you rather be somewhere else?" He had asked the absolute dope he was. Crowley thought he wasn't wanted. 

A crack of thunder interrupted his self  
flagellation. The rain! He had chaced Crowley out into the rain! 

He bolted out the frint door, not bothering with a coat or locking up. He would find Crowley, bring him back to the bookshop. The he would sit Crowley down and make certain that he knew in the plainest and simplest of terms that no matter if Aziraphale wasn't compatible to be to a caregiver for him, he would always care for Crowley when he needed it. The bookshop (and Aziraphale's arms) would always be open to him. In fact, Aziraphale would vastly prefer if Crowley stayed at the bookshop, and never set foot in that tomb he called an apartment ever again. 

Meanwhile Crowley was finally seeing some benefits to the rain. Yes, it made him wet and cold. It made his bones ache, and his shoulders shiver, and his head hurt. But at least since he was now drenched from head to toe, no one could tell he had wet himself. He could have miracled the mess away, but he hardly felt up to it just now. And he rather thought he deserved his shame and misery anyway, as well as the unpleasant burning sensation that had started on his private bits and inner thighs. 

Crowley didn't go back home. If he was being honest with himself, (which he seldom was) his apartment wasn't home. Never had been. Home was a bookshop and a fussy angel. A bookshop that he'd just been asked to leave by said fussy angel. 

Crowley plastered himself to a bench in Saint James' Park. Their bench. He really was pathetic, still clinging to Aziraphale when he knew he wasn't wanted. It didn't matter that they we're free of their respective sides. In the end they we're still an angel and a demon. Aziraphale was and always would be so much better than him, gracing Crowley with his time and occasionally even affection because he was being kind to a lesser creature. 

Crowley let his head down onto the bench with a solid whack.(which rather hurt) And proceeded to stew in his misery, in a scene that would be considered overdramatic in even the worst of penny dreadful novels. 

He didn't even look up when he heard his name being frantically called. 

"Bugger off, I'm having a moment here." He said into the bench. 

"Really Crowley."

Crowley's head snapped up. Aziraphale stood over him, a pillar of light against the darkness of the storm. (Both literally and metaphorically) 

"Whatever are you doing out here!"

Crowley was a bit put out by that. "You told me to leave!" His voice rose, and maybe cracked a little as well. 

Aziraphale's expression softened. "I didn't mean to. It was only that you seemed so unhappy there. You wouldn't cuddle, or eat, or be anything but a snake."

"I was trying to stay out of your way." Crowley mumbled, "Not be a bother." His head was swaying now. Or was it the ground? He wasn't sure. 

"You're never a bother."Aziraphale said softly, but Crowley didn't hear him, his eyes had gone completely unfocused and his head slumped back.


	16. Chapter 16

Aziraphale wasted no time in gathering Crowley up into his arms and scurrying back to the bookshop with him. 

Ever since the whole garden and apple fiasco. God had cursed Crowley to be a snake for a he rest of his days. This wasn't however quite as literal as it sounded. Crowley obviously wasn't always a snake. Instead he was bound to some degree by a snake's biology, subject to needs of his coporeal form in a way that no other demon or angel was. Crowley had no way to control over the internal temperature of his body. He couldn't smell but with his tongue or change his eyes from yellow slits. 

So Crowley needed to take care of himself. (even more so because he was also a little) The one thing ( besides his actually job) he was completely dreadful at doing. 

How he had managed not to get himself discorperated for so long was a mystery to Aziraphale. 

He placed Crowley on the bed, and begin stripping him of his wet things. He could have just snapped his fingers, but as a caregiver he found much more satisfaction in doing things the human way. And as an angel he believed in the healing powers of love and affection. 

Aziraphale carefully removed each piece of sopping wet black attire. Than vigorously rubbed each gangly limb to try and get a bit of blood flowing once again. It seemed to be working as by the time Aziraphale was talking off Crowley's pants, Crowley had regained consciousness. He was staring at Aziraphale with half closed eyes (Aziraphale having removed those dreadful dark glasses first thing. He really did like looking at Crowley's eyes.) 

Aziraphale was horrified when he finally got Crowley's pants worked down enough to expose his sodden pull up. all of the skin from Crowley's knees to his groin was redened, raw, and extremely painful looking. 

Aziraphale gasped. 

Underneath the pull up was worse, much worse. All of Crowley's sensitive bits were completely covered in some of the worst diaper rash he had ever seen. 

"Oh Crowley" He sighed and waved a hand over the raw, burning skin, leaving in freshly healed and pale in his wake. 

Crowley just blinked up sleepily at him, a bit confused that he wasn't in pain anymore. 

Aziraphale creamed and powdered Crowley vigorously, even though the rash was gone. (And wouldn't ever be coming back if he had anything to say about it.) Then taped him up in a fresh diaper, and deposited him back in the same cozy pajamas as before.(freshly laundered via miracle) 

He miracled up his own pajamas and tucked himself and Crowley into bed. He popped a gray paci into Crowley's mouth to substitute the thumb he had been nursing on. Then he tucked the angel and devil bears in besides his little demon. 

Crowley rubbed his face against the devil bear's fur in his sleep. And worried his fingers against the angel bear's tartan ribbon. 

Aziraphale noted that Crowley might like a baby blanket. One with a soft side and lots of little tags for thin little fingers to feel. Or maybe one of those nice big, soft play cubes. One with all manner of beads, tags, bells, teethers, and other little fidly things for Crowley to play with. 

In his sleep, Crowley snuggled further into Aziraphale. And that thought Aziraphale was exactly where he was going to say until he warmed up and then became lucid enough to have a conversation. A proper conversation, thought Aziraphale. One with them both saying words. One where Crowley didn't bolt from the room halfway through, or turn into a snake, or try and jump out a window, or something. (Aziraphale wasnt quite sure how he would manage this, but he was determined) 

Then Crowley would stay in the bookshop till it stopped raining (it was really beginning to remind Aziraphale of another rainstorm a very long time ago. He did hope no one was building an ark) and be taken care of by Aziraphale. Hopefully by then they would have talked through what Crowley wanted to do afterwards.(Aziraphale did so hope it was stay here with him) 

Yes, thought Aziraphale, that would be just how things would go.


	17. Chapter 17

Aziraphale woke to an empty bed. Which was unusual. First that he woke at all, as he was not in the habit of sleeping with any sort of regularity. Secondly because there was presently supposed to be a second occupant of the bed. 

Oh, why couldn't Crowley ever just stay where he was put? 

Fortunately this time Aziraphale didn't have to run all over London in the rain. as Crowley was downstairs in the bookshop pawing through the coat rack. 

"Crowley dear what ever are you doing there?" 

Crowley didn't appear to hear him, he just kept clumsily fumbling through coat pockets. Aziraphale walked over and placed a gentle hand on Crowley's shoulder. Crowley turnedhis head and looked up at Aziraphale, but his yellow eyes were bleary and unfocused. Though Crowley was looking right at him, Aziraphale highly doubted that the demon registered he was there. 

Aziraphale asked again, gentler this time. "Darling, what are you looking for?"

"Pills" mumbled Crowley. 

"Pills?" Aziraphale parroted back. 

"Pills. Pills so 'ziraphale dun know I'm little."

A gear had begun to turn slowly in Aziraphale's brain, and a thought was forming. "Aziraphale.. " Aziraphale paused and began again. "Aziraphale doesn't know you're a little? 

"Uh uh, he thinks I'm sick. Snake sick, cause it's cold." Crowley paused in his rummaging and scrunched up his face in thought. "I am sick, n 'Aziraphale is being reaaaalllyyy nice to me n it makes me little." He raised a long finger to his lips. "Shhhhh. Don't tell angel."

Aziraphale bent over and picked up Crowley. Who gave a few rebellious wiggles, and then went limp in his arms. Aziraphale carried him upstairs to the bedroom. Though he didn't place him back in bed. Instead he miracled them a nice plush rocking chair, big enough so that Crowley's feet wouldn't drag on the ground while he sat draped over Aziraphale's lap. 

He wasn't quite sure if Crowley was sleepwalking, or if this was a side affect of the hypothermia or maybe the little suppressant drugs. But Aziraphale's had gotten two rather important realization from speaking from his delirious demon. 

One: Crowley did not realize that Aziraphale knew he was a little. Honestly, Aziraphale really wasn't sure how Crowley hadn't realized he knew. Yes, he had try to be subtle at first, but he really couldn't help himself and had been babying Crowley a rather lot lately. He had been changing his diapers, giving him pacis, tucking him to bed and spoon feeding him. He couldn't help himself, and Crowley did seem to need the attention so. (Around this time it was also beginning to occur to Aziraphale that his best friend, his littlest love, his dearest demon might be a bit of an idiot) 

Second : There was a third option that Crowley could choose. Instead of staying with Aziraphale or finding another caregiver, Crowley could just continue on as he had been. Downing little suppressants and pretending his was a baseline, just like he had been doing for the last six thousand years.

Aziraphale could live with Crowley being taken care of by someone else.(he wouldn't be particularly happy about it, but he could live with it.) That way at least he could know that Crowley was being taken care of. And occasionally see little Crowley, and maybe have a nice cuddle with him or babysit if his caretaker was away. If things went back to they way they were before, Aziraphale would probably never see Crowley be little again. 

Aziraphale wouldn't get to cuddle him ever. Or make sure he ate, or that his diapers we're changed, so that he didn't get a nasty rash ever again. Or bottle feed him, or go to sleep with Crowley tucked safely in his arms. And no one else would be there to do it either. 

Instead Aziraphale would just be left to endlessly fret over if Crowley had eaten. If he had wet the bed. If he needed a hug and no one was there to give him one. 

He clutched the sleeping Crowley closer to him, and listened to his gentle breathing mingle with the thrum of the rain beating down against the window outside. Aziraphale rocked them both gently. These may be the last days he ever had with little Crowley. Taken from him as abruptly as they we're given. 

If they we're to be the last days he had with little Crowley, then they would be the best. Crowley would never be so loved as Aziraphale would love him. Crowley would want for nothing. Be petted and loved and adored. Then maybe, just maybe, in the end he would choose to stay.


	18. Chapter 18

Crowley was still sleeping quietly cuddled up on him, and it was all very nice, bu Aziraphale was beginning to feel a bit peckish. His thoughts had turned to the tripple layer chocolate fudge cake he had chilling in the refrigerator.

Very gently he rearranged Crowley in his arms. Crowley's head still rested on Aziraphale's shoulder, while one of Aziraphale's hands curled around Crowley's thin midsection, while the other supported his bottom. 

As soon as his hand made contact with Crowley's rear end, he knew that his trip to the kitchen would be slightly delayed, as Crowley had rater thoroughly wet his diaper in his sleep. 

Aziraphale managed not to wake Crowley during the diaper change. Then picked him back up and carried him to the kitchen. He arranged Crowely on his hip, and fetched his (rather large) slice of cake and cup of tea one handed. 

He sat himself and Crowley down in one of his over stuffed armchairs and began to tuck in. About halfway through Aziraphale's slice of cake, Crowley began wriggling and snuffling in his shoulder. Aziraphale saw a golden eye peek out at him curiously. 

Aziraphale offered up his cake filled fork to Crowley. "Would you like a slice of cake dear?"

Aziraphale had often fed Crowley off his own plate over the centuries. Crowley almost never ate, and even if Crowley couldn't exactly starve to death Aziraphale worried at how thin the demon was. 

Crowley thought about it, then opened his mouth, sticking out his little forked tounge in the process. Which Aziraphale thought was just darling. He popped the cake into Crowley's mouth, than took a bite for himself. It went on this way, Aziraphale alternating between feeding himself and Crowley until they had finished. 

Than Aziraphale sipped his tea and they sat in silence until, he brain to hear an odd smacking sound in his left ear. He turned his head to realize it was Crowley sleepily smacking his lips together, and it occurred to the Angel that Crowley must be thirsy. 

Aziraphale felt he had come to a pivotal moment. He very muchly wanted to feed Crowley a bottle. But he also thought that if Crowley we're just a bit more aware, he would object to such babyish treatment. (rather vehemently)  
Oh but Aziraphale did so want to, and they had come this far. He wasn't even sure Crowley would remember this come morning. Which was, Aziraphale thought a rather melancholy thought. He did so wish that Crowley would enjoy this as much as he would. But Aziraphale knew this might be his only chance to ever do so, so he miracled up a warm bottle of milk. 

The teat was gently nudged against Crowley's mouth. A bead of milk formed on the tip of the nipple and a little forked tongue curiously reached out to taste it. 

Crowley must have decided he liked it, because he latched on vigorously and began sucking. His already half lidded eyes closed completely and he snuggled down further into the warm plushness of Aziraphale. 

A warm contentment washed over Aziraphale, and he watched Crowley with adoring eyes trying to sear this moment into his memory perfectly. So when he no longer had little Crowley(or probably even big Crowley) hear with him he could remember this time, and find maybe not happiness, but some measure of contentment. 

When Crowley finished with his bottle Aziraphale gently tugged it out of his mouth and quickly replaced it with a paci so that Crowley would feel no loss. He kissed the sleeping demon's forehead, and miracled up a book. He read as Crowley napped contentedly on him, and for just this moment in time Aziraphale fell that all was well.


	19. Chapter 19

Anthony J. Crowley had really mucked things up this time worse than he ever had before. Worst than loosing the Antichrist. Worst than falling from heaven. 

You see there was a reason, besides general laziness that Crowley slept so much. After the whole bit with the apple and the garden Crowley tended to be very snake like.(thank you God) So whenever he found himself too hot or too cold, he got sluggish and sleepy. This usually resulted in him dozing on and off for long periods of time. When you spend the majority of your time, sleeping, falling asleep, or waking up just to go back to sleep a few minutes later, you begin to have trouble separating the things that happened to you while you we're asleep,(i. e. Dreams) from the things that happened to you when you we're awake. 

So when Crowley woke up, and was for the first time in a long while thinking clearly (as clearly as Crowley ever thought) he simply believed the past couple of days to have been a dream. Not even a particularly odd one. He had often dreamt of Aziraphale in this manner. 

So Crowley just closed his eyes and snuggled back into the covers for a nice lie in. It took him a few wiggles to realize that theses weren't his sheets. Instead of the silk sheets he usually slept on, these felt suspiciously like particularly soft cotton. And for that matter, the warmth pressed up against the left of him was new as well. 

Crowley slowly opened one yellow eye. It was worse than he could have possibly imagined. There sleeping peacefully next to him was Aziraphale. 

Crowley had to know. So he peeked under the tartan covers and looked down at himself. It was just as bad as he had feared, worse even. He was wearing feetie pajamas. Admittedly the we're feetie pajamas that Crowley himself would have picked out if he had ever entertained the notion of buying such a thing. They we're a soft grey patterned with little black and red snakes. But they we're still feetie pajamas. 

Crowley really hoped he was still dreaming. He pinched himself. He didn't wake up, he was still laying beside his angel wearing feetie pajamas. He pinched himself again. He still didn't wake up. He bit his hand, fangs sinking into his skin drawing blood. He was forced to admit that maybe he wasn't dreaming. 

If Crowley wasn't dreaming than it could only mean one thing. Aziraphale knew. Aziraphale KNEW! 

Crowley was starting to remember with mortifing clarity some of the events of the past few days. Aziraphale had bottle fed him! Also, at some point, Crowley was almost certain there had been a bath filled with bubbles and little yellow ducks. That wasn't even mentioning all of the diaper changes, and who knew what other hideously embarrassung things that had happened. 

Crowley was going to go back to his apartment, write an apology letter to Aziraphale, than crawl under a rock somewhere and discorperate from embarrassment. 

Aziraphale shifted next to him. And Crowley quickly rolled over and closed his eyes. He felt a wet squish under him, and Crowley knew he had wet himself once again. He hated being a little. He always had, since the very beginning. He didn't understand why he was like this, so useless and disgusting, he couldn't even sleep without waking up to a mess he created because he simply couldn't control his bladder as he slept. He could hardly control it when he was awake for that matter. 

Why was he like this. 

That had been one of the questions that had gotten him kicked out of his heaven in he end. Crowley didn't know if there had been other littles in heaven, if there was he hadn't met them. He'd never seen an angel who was a caregiver untill he had met Aziraphale, but well angels didn't go around advertising those sorts of things either. 

It was a thing kept just as secret in Hell. If there were any littles or caregivers in Hell, they kept it very well hidden. Neither heaven nor hell was particularly kind to the weak and useless. And that's just what littles were. What he was. 

Aziraphale was awake now, and Crowley could hear him moving about the room. Then gentle hands, were on him trying to lift him up. Crowley wriggled away. He was just going to stay right here with his shame and self loathing thank you very much. And absolutely never look Aziraphale in the eye again for rest of existance. 

Aziraphale was rubbing Crowley's back which though it felt pleasant, made Crowley feel even worse. 

"Darling, I'm going to make breakfast. Don't you want to come with?"

Crowley most certainly did not. He wriggled further away and pressed his face harder into the pillow. Maybe if he pressed hard enough, he could suffocate himself and discorperate so he'd never have to face Aziraphale. 

"Alright dear boy if you want to a bit of a lie in that's fine."

Crowley heard some shuffling and felt movement on and around the bed. He had no clue what the angel was doing. For maybe the first time in six thousand years, Crowley wished Aziraphale would just leave. 

Eventually he did, and Crowley listened for a whole as Aziraphale puttered about the kitchen. 

As he listened an idea began to take shape in his mind. (Not it should be noted, a particularly good idea) If he had was very quite, he might be able to sneak past the kitchen door, down the stairs, and make a runner for the bookshop door. 

Crowley gingerly wriggled his way out of the covers, only to find that Aziraphale had laid pillows around the edges of the bed so he wouldn't fall out. The way you would do for a baby or very little toddler. Crowley's face went a little red. Climbing to the edge of the bed he bumped into the angel and devil teddies. He thought for a moment about talking them with him, but well they we're Aziraphale's weren't they. Instead he just placed a kiss on each of their furry heads and gently placed them back on the bed. 

He peeked his head out the bedroom door. Aziraphale was no where in sight. So he made a quick scurry past the kitchen. Rounding the corner to the stairs he knocked a stack off books over with a pointed elbow. At first the noise and falling of books paralized him in fright, he could feel his diaper growing warm again. But he didn't have time to worry about his most recent accident, because panic had set in. He bolted down the stairs two at a time. He almost slipped and fell down the stairs, buy managed to grab a hold of the railing at the last secind and continue his frightened race to the door. 

He weaved through bookshelves till he found the front door. He frantically fumbled with the knob, somehow in the last few minutes of his life having completely forgotten how to work a doorknob. Then something froze Crowley in his tracks. Behind him, a voice, Aziraphale's voice, because who else could it be? It was always Aziraphale. 

"Crowley dear, please don't go."


	20. Chapter 20

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. Who had apparently not realized that he was about to burst onto the streets of SoHo wearing feetie pajamas with a pacifier still placed firmly in his mouth and sans dark glasses. 

His poor demon was stood stock still, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding Bentley. (It should be noted that Crowley had never actually hit a deer with the Bentley. Deer in the middle of the road about to be hit always suddenly found themselves suddenly and miraculously standing on the side of the road ath the very last second as the Bently sped past) 

Aziraphale cautiously approached Crowley. He longed to pick him up and carry him back upstairs, and perch the demon on his lap as they both had a nice breakfast. But now (and Aziraphale couldn't believe he was saying this) wasn't the time for food. 

Very slowly he reached out and gently grasped one of the demon's hands. Feeling that he was trembling slightly. Aziraphale gently tugged Crowley over to the sofa and sat so that there was a bit of distance between them but not so much that Aziraphale couldn't quickly reach out to grab his flighty demon if he decided toake another run for it. 

"Crowley dear, I think we both know that you're a little."

"No" Crowley said, but it was muffled by his paci. Crowley looked surprised for a second, than opened his mouth and let the paci fall to his lap. Crowley went stiff. He stared at it as if he had never seen a pacifier before. Then his cheeks went red and his chin dropped to his chest. "Don't want to be a little." Crowley mumbled to his lap. 

"Oh, Crowley dear. " Aziraphale was fighting not to just bring Crowley into his lap for a good cuddle. "How do you know, have you.... Have you ever really let your self be little before?"

Crowley looked at Aziraphale aghast. "Of course not, everything's so hard when you're little everythings so hard. And messy!! And the you have to clean up the messes, but its too hard because you're little. So you can't make anything better you just lie there while everything gets worse and worse and think about how useless you are. Crowley slipped forward and put his head in his hands. "I don't want to be little."

"It doesn't always have to be like that, if you had someone to care for you.. "

Crowley interrupted with a snort. "Who'd want to take care of me?" Bitterness laced his voice like.... Like... Like something that laced things. 

"I would" Aziraphale said hesitantly. 

Crowley snorted again. 

"I would!" Aziraphale said again, firmer this time. 

"Because you're an angel. Because you're supposed to be nice."

"Well, yes." Aziraphale was an angel and he was nice, but he also wanted to take care of Crowley because Crowley was Crowley. Though he wasn't sure how to say that just yet. Instead he said "A month."

Crowley looked confused. "A month?"

"Yes dear, a month. You stay with me here for a month, and let me take care of you. If you decide that you like it, we can make the arrangement permanent."

"And if I don't?"

"Well then, things can go back to they way they were and we can never speak of it again."

Crowley snorted for the third time this morning. "You'll get tired of me."

"I won't" said Aziraphale but he could tell that Crowley didn't believe him. 

"My plants.. "

"You can bring them here."

Crowley thought about it. Aziraphale would get tired of him. Sooner or later Aziraphale would get sick of dealing with Crowley's endless accidents and clinging. And while it would be humiliating to be cared for so intimately by Aziraphale, it would also be so very, very, nice. And Aziraphale did say that when it was over they would never speak of it again. Crowley would probably never have another chance like this again. 

He nodded his head slowly, not daring to look up at Aziraphale and said "alright angel."

Aziraphale clapped his hands together, and beamed. (though Crowley with his gaze still in his lap could not see how his angel was smiling at him) "Oh very good Crowley! Let's get you changed then have a nice spot of breakfast."

Crowley turned red, and wondered how he was going to survive this next month.


	21. Chapter 21

Crowley was fussing. Well, Crowley wouldn't call it fussing, he would call it a sensible and reasonable putting forth of his argument for why this was A : not necessary, and B: not needed. ( It might have helped if someone had told Crowley that theses were the same two points) 

Aziraphale would call it unnecessarily detaining breakfast. 

Crowley had so far put forth the sentiment that he didn't need diapers. Which neither of them believed. Then that Crowley could change his own diapers, which Aziraphale wouldn't allow. Then Crowley had suggested that he just miracle his bladder away all together. Which Aziraphale really wouldn't allow. "All of your organs are in your corporation for a reason Crowley. Except maybe the appendix, I'm not entirely certain what that does." 

Crowley helpfully offered "Randomly explode and kill you?"

Now it was quite a bit later than Aziraphale had planned on having breakfast, and Aziraphale was getting hungry and maybe his angelic composure was slipping just the smallest bit and he was getting a teeny bit cross. So he gave Crowley a firm but gentle smack to the backside and told him "That's enough, don't be naughty. Get onto the bed, so I can change you."

Aziraphale wasn't prepared for the look of utter betrayal that graced Crowley's face, as all fight seemed to instantly drain from the thin demon as he shuffled with resignation over to the bed and laid himself out on the changing mat. Than covered his face with his hands and stayed that way for the rest of the diaper change. 

Aziraphale couldn't shake the feeling that he had done something wrong. Crowley had always been rather sensitive under that thin varnish of cool bravado and swaggering hips.(though Aziraphale had always suspected that the swagger might be because Crowley had a few more vertebrae than most people) In Crowley's current state he was even more sensitive than usual. Aziraphale wasnt sure if it was the smack to his bottom, or the bit of crossness that Aziraphale had let seep into his tone that had set Crowley off. Whatever it was he resolved to never do it again. He didn't like the quiet and reticent demon it left him with. 

He dressed the demon in a plain black onesie he miracled up, and slipped a pair of grey shorts, with three little silver buttons on the front, up and over Crowley's diaper. He placed soft red socks on his feet, (no need to bother with shoes, Aziraphale highly doubted they would be leaving the bookshop) and placed a red paci in Crowley's mouth. 

Crowley let Aziraphale carry him and spoon feed him eggs and toast with jam. He didn't fuss when Aziraphale tipped a sippy cup of cold milk up to his lips. Or when Aziraphale wiped off his slightly stick face with a wet napkin. 

Aziraphale was getting a bit disquieted at this point. He had to din something to make things better, so he asked Crowley what he would like to do today. Crowley just mumbled back that it didn't matter. Aziraphale insisted and Crowley hesitantly asked something about a Prince, which confused Aziraphale. 

"Could you say that just a bit louder darling?"

"Could we finish reading the Little Prince?" Crowley asked in a slightly more audible mumble. 

Aziraphale was delighted. "Oh you remember that!" 

Crowley nodded. "Wanna hear the end." 

"Of course dear boy! Of course!" 

Aziraphale bustled about, tucking Crowley onto his lap with the angel and devil bears and giving him a sippy cup of juice to suck on. He found where they had left off and began to read.


	22. Chapter 22

Crowley really did need more toys Aziraphale thought as Crowley dragged in another one of his plants. (He did so hope Crowley wasn't going to do anything too terrible to the poor thing) Crowley set about arranging it with the others now spread across the bookshop floor. Crowley chewed on his pacifier in concentration as he begin to stack books up in a big wall next to the forest of houseplants. 

Aziraphale was technicaly spying on his charge. He had caught Crowley sneakily playing with the bears a couple times today, but no matter how much Aziraphale said it was alright, Crowley always stopped playing as soon as he knew he was caught. 

So Aziraphale had left Crowley in the bookshop and told him he was popping upstairs to make dinner. Aziraphale really had meant to make dinner, but he couldn't resist just a little peek at what Crowley was doing. So far though, whatever game he was playing had Aziraphale stumped.

He peeked back at Crowley who now had both Angel and Devil bears perched on top off the book wall and was mumbling out dialogue from behind his paci. It seemed quite familiar, and all of a sudden Aziraphale realized why. It was the first time they met, in the garden. Crowley was reenacting their first meeting. Aziraphale melted. (Not, of course literally) Crowley really was sweet. 

Aziraphale actually went up stairs to make lunch this time, leaving Crowley to play his game in the bookshop. Aziraphale wondered if Crowley had really ever had toys before. It didn't seem he'd ever allowed himself to be little. 

Well, thought Aziraphale, that would just have to change wouldn't it. Crowley would have all the toys he liked now. Of Course Aziraphale could just miracle up the toys, but he wanted Crowley to have a proper experience at a toy shop where he could run about and pick whatever he wanted off the shelves. He thought Crowley would probably like that, greed after all was a very demonic pastime. Certainly Aziraphale wouldn't mind a few more things cluttering up the shop. 

It was all perfectly settled then. Aziraphale would feed dinner to both Crowley and himself. He would give Crowley the diaper change he most certainly would need by then. Attire Crowley in suitable going out clothes, pack a diaper bag, and then they would head to the toy shop.

He was sure Crowley would be pleased.


	23. Chapter 23

"No" Crowley said and sunk petulantly down onto the floor. Unlike most littles, Crowley never threw tantrums. Not the noisy kind that involved screaming and wailing, and possibly tossing of nearby objects. Instead when Crowley was upset he would sulk. This generally involved sliding onto the floor in a heap of too long limbs and petulant demon. Then remaining on the floor for long periods of time. 

"Why ever not?" Asked Aziraphale looking rather baffled. 

Crowley looked up at him from his spot on the floor. "People will see me."

Aziraphale blinked, "Well yes that does tend to happen when you go out."

"Noooo, Angel, they'll see me when I'm little."

Aziraphale had never paid too much attention to what the humans surrounding him thought. He really couldn't be bothered to keep up with anything humans did or thought if it wasn't directly related to food or books. 

Crowley on the other hand thought of his appearance to others rather alot. And spent a good deal of time making sure that he came off as cool and mysterious and slightly dangerous. (In his head only, literally no one in the history of the planet had ever looked at Crowley and said "oh isn't he cool, mysterious, and slightly dangerous. They generally said, "oh there goes that odd Goth chap, bit of an idiot, isn't he?") 

Going out in public with a diaper on and a pacifier in his mouth holding Aziraphale's hand would mean everyone who saw him would know the very thing he had spent his whole life hiding. It would be utterly humiliating. 

Crowley didn't know why Aziraphale wanted to take him to the toy store anyway. Surely it would just be a waste, Crowley was only going to be here and little for a month at most and probably not even that. It was only the first day and he had already made Aziraphale cross enough with him to give him a smack. It was obvious that Aziraphale wasn't particularly enjoying caring for Crowley and Crowley both feared that his little time with Aziraphale would be coming to a swift end very soon. 

Crowley certainly didn't deserve a trip to the toy store anyway. He was naughty, Aziraphale had said so himself. Rotten little demons who couldn't even manage to behave themselves for one day certainly didn't get treats at toy shops. 

But for some reason known only to Aziraphale and probably God, Aziraphale was insistent. "We'll dress you so no one can tell you're wearing a diaper dear. And you needed have your paci if you don't want it."

Crowley really, really, really, to say no. But he knew he was being naughty again, by not just doing what Aziraphale said. Aziraphale must be getting a bit cross with him. Crowley had after all managed to be naught now twice in one day. What couldn't he just be good, do what Aziraphale wanted? Make it less difficult for Aziraphale who was already stuck with the unpleasant task of caring for him. 

He peered at Aziraphale with one yellow eye. "No little clothes?"

Aziraphale beamed "I promise you won't be able to look at you on the street and tell you're a little." But Aziraphale thought to himself whatever he dressed Crowley in would certainly be little appropriate. No more see through shirts and shoelace/tassle/necktie abominations for his little demon, no sir. 

"And no diaper bag." It didn't matter what he was dressed like if Aziraphale went around carrying a diaper bag."

Aziraphale ruffled Crowley's hair. "I'll use my leather satchel. The one I carry books in sometimes."(This explanation was unnecessary, as what else would a bag of Aziraphale's be used for) 

Crowley nodded, and said with great reluctance, but hope that it would please his angel. "Alright."

"Splendid." Aziraphale clasped his hands together. "Let's get you ready."

Crowley was changed into a fresh diaper, then dressed. He had to admit that the clothes Aziraphale chose for him weren't too dreadfull at all. 

Aziraphale had pulled up black leggings over his diaper. Then pulled a oversized read sweater over his head. The arms flopped down over his hands and the hem came down only a couple of inches above his knee. Assuring that Crowley's diaper was completely obscured from view. The sweater also had a picture of black Bentley knitted in the front of it. Which Crowley absolutely loved, even if he would never admit it. Aziraphale then placed red socks and tied black converse shoes on Crowley's feet. 

Crowley watched with a blush from his perch on the bed as Aziraphale busted around packing diapers, lotions, and powders into the leather bag. 

Once he had finished he gently placed Crowley's dark glasses on, and removed the pacifier from his mouth and placed it in a small box. The he placed the box in leather bag and Crowley was left to sit there feeling a bit lost without the comforting wight of his paci in his mouth. 

Aziraphale carried Crowley to the front door, where he placed him down on his feet. He fussed foe a while over whether it was warm enough for Crowley to go without a coat or not. (In the end it was decided that yes, it was warm enough that Crowley didn't need a coat) 

Aziraphale than took one of Crowley's thin, pale hands in his own chubby one, and they left the bookshop. 

Crowley's heart sank.


	24. Chapter 24

Aziraphale had taken them to London's largest store catering exclusively to littles. Crowley had studiously avoided the place since it had oppened. Just like he had avoided any shop or place that had to much to do with littles

In light of London's recent string of bad weather, the shop was relatively empty. Which made Crowley feel just the littlest bit better. 

Crowley lagged a little behind Aziraphale, half hiding behind him, peering out at the rows upon rows of toys, bottles, pacifiers, diapers, and clothes. Aziraphale gently pushed Crowley towards the toys, and told him to pick a few things out. 

Crowley looked around cautiously. There were so many toys. He'd never had any before, besides his bears. He looked from the toys to Aziraphale and back again, terrified that he would make the wrong decision. 

Aziraphale just kisses Crowley on the temple and told him he would be in the section with bottles and dinnerware, then walked away. 

Crowley was both relieved and nervous to be on his own. Aziraphale's absence did make looking through the toys much easier. Crowley wandered into the doll section where his eyes where his eyes were drawn to a line of historical dolls. Specifically one in an elaborate black and white Victorian era dress. He name on the package was Lenore, and she was clever and mischievous and liked to explore the various castle ruins that littered the moors she lived on. She also liked music and poetry and studying various reptiles. She came with a book where she solved the mystery of the Wailing Ghost of Allan Manor, he thought Aziraphale might read to him. Crowley cradled the box in his arms and went to look for Aziraphale. Just to make sure his Angel hadn't left him. 

He spotted Aziraphale where he said he would be, by the bottles and sippy cups. He was beaming, talking animatedly to two littles. Crowley creeped closer without being seen. 

The littles were a boy and girl that looked to be twins. They were small and cute, chubby cheeked and freckled, the way littles ought to be. The way Crowley wasn't.

They looked to be older littles from the way they we're dressed and their lack of pacifiers or plushies as well as the confident way the held themselves while talking to a stranger. Maybe about at the age range of 4 to 7 years, significantly older than Crowley's 0 to 3.(though if you asked Crowley, and he actually admitted to being a little, he would tell you he was at the higher end of the scale at about seven. His thumb sucking tendencies and lack of bladder control would argue otherwise however) 

Of course Aziraphale wasn't a normal stranger. He was an angel, and a caregiver. Littles couldn't help but flock to him like moths to a flame. 

Crowley turned away, and headed back to the toy section. He wandered aimlessly until he found himself in the plushy section. There we're so many staring at him with embroidered or black marble eyes. He ran his fingers through their fur, and wished that he could take all of them home with him. Bur Aziraphale would hardly be happy with that. So Crowley looked for the ones that just had to come home with him. A large green snake long enough to wrap around his shoulders was his first choice. His second was a black unicorn with holographic hooves and horn. (Crowley had really rather missed unicorns since that unforunate incident at the ark.) 

He contemplated choosing another, but he wasn't even sure if Aziraphale would let him have this many. Crowley hoped he wouldn't make him put one back, because he was already sure he wouldn't be able to choose between them. 

Crowley than spent a long time carefully examining the other toys. His angel wouldn't like it if he was too greedy, so he thought it would be best to only pick out one more. In the end he decided on a block set you could use to make a rather large castle, it even came with little dolls dressed up as nights and nobles and a toy dragon. 

Crowley was working on balancing the castle set in his arms along with his doll and plushies, when he noticed that one of the littles from before had walked up to him. 

"Are you Mr. Aziraphale's little?" He asked? 

Crowley gave a hesitant nod. 

The little was licking a rainbow lolly, that Crowley rather suspect Aziraphale had given him. (Because Aziraphale was maybe the only stranger you could ever take candy from and feel like you done the completely safe and right thing) 

"Are you a baby?"

"No." Crowley said vehemently. 

The little gave him a long look from over his oversized lollypop. "I think you are. I saw Mr. Aziraphale getting bottles and... diapers." Upon saying this last bit the little gave him a look that made Crowley's insides squirm in a very uncomfortable way. "My Momma says no one likes baby littles, cause no one wants to change diapers forever." The little took another lick of his lolly. 

Crowley started to protest (or more accurately lie) that he wasn't a baby and didn't need diapers. But while he had been occupied with the little in front of him, the other little had snuck behind him and in a swift motion put her hands up his sweater and yanked his leggings down to his knees. Then she pulled his sweater up to hips exposing his diaper. Rather unfortunately, as it so often did in times of strife, Crowley's bladder choose this moment to empty itself. 

For a moment all three were in shock, as a faint hissing sound could be heard and Crowley's diaper darkened. Then the twins burst out in peals of laughter. 

Crowley stood frozen, still clinging to his armfull of toys. He was a demon, the serpent of Eden he had faced demons and angels, the Antichrist and Satan himself, yet here he was unable to defend himself from two mortal littles. Unable to do anything but tremble as they laughed at him an called him "diaper baby" in a tone low enough that it wouldn't be heard by any of the other few patrons of the shop. No one would be coming to rescue Crowley. 

Crowley was glad for once that he couldn't actually cry tears. If he could he was sure he would be weeping profusely by now, and 'crybaby' would be added to the list of taunts. 

Eventually the littles got bored of Crowley's humiliation. And Crowley was left alone to set down his toys and pull up his leggings over his now sodden diaper. 

He really wanted Aziraphale to come and make everything better. Yet at the same time he really didn't want Aziraphale to know what an absolutely pathetic baby he had been. 

He waited a while before going to find Aziraphale. Making sure his trembling had subsided, so Aziraphale wouldn't know something was wrong. 

Aziraphale didn't make Crowley put one of the stuffed toys back, which Crowley was immeasurably grateful for. He clung to both of them as they walked out of the store. It seemed more important just now to have the comfort of clinging to the plush, than being ashamed if people saw him. 

The headed home, and Aziraphale placed an arm around Crowley as they walked, and Crowley snuggled down into his side. Crowley thought for a moment that he might be alright. That was until Aziraphale begin talking about a delight couple of littles that he had met at the shop. 

And if Aziraphale felt Crowley trembling, he thought it was only because Crowley must have caught a chill.


	25. Chapter 25

"No one wants to change diapers forever." Crowley couldn't get the words of the other little out of his head. 

Especially as he had been given a rather stern reprimand by Aziraphale that night for not telling him when Crowley had wet when they were out so he could be changed. Aziraphale had even clicked his tounge and tisked, then examined Crowley embarrassingly thoroughly for the beginnings of any rashes. 

As Crowley sat on the floor making his block castle, an ideas begain to form in his head, it went something like this: (A) He wanted to stay with Aziraphale as long as possible. This wouldn't happen if Aziraphale got tired of taking care of him. (B) The thing both he and Aziraphale seemed to dislike most about his being little was his inability to control his bladder and constant need of diaper changes. (Conclusion) If Crowley could control his bladder just a bit better, he wouldn't need diapers. Aziraphale wouldn't have to change him, and he would like, or at least tolerate, taking care of Crowley better, and Crowley could stay longer. 

It was a brilliant plan if Crowley did say so himself. Crowley suched on his pacifier thoughtfully. First on the agenda was to get Aziraphale to let him wear pull ups instead of diapers. He had a much better chance of 

Crowley waited until he had to pee. Well until he thought that maybe he might have to pee. He was never quite sure. Then he got up (a bit reluctantly) from his playing, and went to find Aziraphale. 

He tugged on Aziraphale's sleeve. Aziraphale turned to Crowley and asked "What is it dear boy."

Crowley looked absolutely everywhere except at Aziraphale as he said "Got to pee."

"Oh, you need a diaper change."

Crowley shook his head, still not looking at Aziraphale "Got to use the bathroom."

Aziraphale looked a bit suspicious. "Are you sure dear? You aren't... Well you aren't really very good at knowing when you have to go. "

Crowley glared, and nodded that yes he was sure. (This was a lie) 

So Aziraphale picked him up and took him to the bathroom. He undid his diaper and set him on the toilet. Which was embarrassingly babyish, but better than not getting to go to the toilet at all, so Crowley didn't complain. Much. 

He only let out the smallest trickle of pee into the toilet, but it was something, and Crowley felt rather around of himself for it. Aziraphale however seemed less impressed. And soon Crowley was being scooped up and placed on a the changing mat. (Crowley refused to think of it as his changing mat.) 

Aziraphale had gotten out another diaper. (Crowley had without realizing wet the other a little/without realizing it, and even if he hadn't Aziraphale wouldn't dream of not putting Crowley in a fresh one) 

"Wanna pull up"

Aziraphale paused. "Are you sure dear? Last time you wore one you got a nasty rash! and leaked! They really aren't as absorbent as diapers."

Well they wouldn't leak this time, because Crowley had no intention of wetting in them. He nodded, "I'm sure."

Aziraphale looked skeptical, but nodded and said "Alright dear, but you must promise that you will tell me if you wet them, so I can change you right away."

Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale went to fetch a pull up instead. 

Aziraphale than left Crowley with a sippy cup of juice to play with his castle again. Crowley shifted, pull ups really weren't as comfortable as diapers. But Crowley was determined, and so he ignored it, and went about his playing. 

Crowley was just getting to the good bit in his story where the bad guy won, got the Castle and married the good guy when he noticed that he was suddenly sitting in dampness. Self loathing (more than usual) creeped up his spine and made a home in Crowley's head.

He was no good at this. The only reason he had ever been able to get away without diapers it this long was a combination of the little suppressants and miricaling away the few (many) accidents he happened to have. 

He couldn't just miricale away things now. He was in too close of proximity to Aziraphale. Aziraphale would know, (they could always tell when one ore the other preformed a miricale, it felt like a little tickle in the back of one's head) then he would be curious and want to know what Crowley was miricaling. And Crowley would be in trouble again and probably called naught and maybe given another smack. 

Crowley had just resigned himself to the shameful admission he would have to make to Aziraphale, when a though came to him. He could just change himself! He knew where Aziraphale kept the pull ups and diapers. All Crowley would have to do would be to change out of his wet one into a dry one. Crowley snuck upstairs, taking his doll Lenore with him for moral support. 

He made it into the bedroom, retrieved a fresh pull up from the closet. Then Crowley slid down his pants and wet pull up, and slid on the new one. Easy. Except for one tiny detail. What to do with the old one. Which was as now sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor and most certainly could not stay there. 

Crowley picked it up and took it to the bathroom, shoving it in the cabinet under the sink in the very, very back. 

Crowley would repeat this ritual three times again that day. Twice he tried to rush to the bathroom, but just didn't make it in time. Leaving him with a growing sense of shame and failure. The third time he was snuggled up all cosy and warm on Aziraphale's lap, nursing a bottle of warm milk and being read to and didn't notice at all that his pull up had gotten warm and wet. 

It was relatively easy to sneak away from Aziraphale, who often left Crowley alone to play or so that he could prepare food. And when Aziraphale went to change Crowley into his night diaper that evening and found his pull up dry, the look of surprise on Aziraphale's face was very rewarding to Crowley.(even if Crowley had technically cheated to achieve his results) 

That night he snuggled up to Aziraphale, and waited for the angel's breathing to even out. When Crowley was sure that Aziraphale was asleep, he carefully extracted himself from the angels arms and crept out of the bedroom. He padded down the hall to the bathroom and retrieved his pile of soggy pullups from under the sink. (Holding them as far way from himself as possible because of the rather sour smell they were emitting) he made it downstairs and halfway across the bookshop to the back door where the garbage cans we're located, when the lights suddenly switched on. Crowley stood frozen. 

Aziraphale's voice washed over him sounding sleepy and irritated "Crowley, what on earth are you doing doing! "


	26. Chapter 26

Aziraphale was a little concerned about Crowley. Well, Aziraphale was a little mire concern led than usual about Crowley. He was always concerned about Crowley, for Crowley was often very concerning. 

It seemed that in someways Crowley was easing into finally letting himself be a little. He was playing with his toys, he didn't stop the second Aziraphale entered the room anymore. He let Aziraphale cuddle and carry him. Ate every the was fed, let Aziraphale give him a bottle and read to him. It was somewhat concerning that Crowley was so complacent. Crowley was while not particularly nasty or troublesome, rather mischevious at dramatic at heart. 

Aziraphale chalked the change in behavior up to a transitional period. As Crowley became more comfortable being a little, he would go back to being the mischevious little hellion Aziraphale loved. 

The request for pull ups was rather surprising. Taking into consideration exactly how little Crowley was, diapers we're the far more appropriate choice. But Aziraphale thought it must just ne a little phase Crowley was going through at the moment. A few wet pull ups from not quite making it to the bathroom and Crowley would tire of the whole thing and he would be back in diapers.

At least Aziraphale hoped so. He did rather miss the quality time that they spent together during diaper changes. When Crowley was so soft and cute and vulnerable before him. While Aziraphale would love Crowley at whatever age he fell at. He did prefer Crowley as a baby best of all. There was something so cozy and fulfilling about taking care of a baby little. 

Crowley having no wet pull ups was quite frankly alarming. Aziraphale had watched Crowley drink several sippy cups full of juice and tea thought the day. And had fed him a bottle of warm milk while he had read aloud to him. As much as he hated to doubt his dear demon he highly doubted that Crowley was making it to the bathroom in time, and he hadn't sensed any miricales being done. He was really beginning to wonder if something wasn't wrong with Crowley's corporation. 

He tucked Crowley into bed, as well as the devil and angel bears, the plush snake and unicorn, and Lenore the doll. (Aziraphale was not thrilled with sleeping in the same bed as the hard plastic and rather pointy Lenore, but Crowley insisted she would be lonely if she couldn't come to bed with everyone else. Aziraphale could hardly say no to his little demons large, pleading yellow eyes) Aziraphale resolved to wait until morning to really start worrying. After all Crowley hadn't complained of any sort of pain or discomfort. Maybe Crowley really was making it to the bathroom? In any case Aziraphale was almost certain that there would be a wet diaper in the morning. Crowley always wet in his sleep. 

Aziraphale was startled that night to wake up to a bed that was empty.(save for himself and Crowley's toys) He immediately jumped out of bed and started looking for his wayward demon. It was hardly the first time Crowley had run off, but Aziraphale had so hoped they we're past this. 

Crowley wasn't anywhere upstairs, so Aziraphale made his way downstairs to the bookshop. He turned on the light and there, rather unexpectedly was Crowley, stood frozen his hand out stretched with something dangling from it. 

"Crowley, what on earth are you doing! "

Crowley didn't answer. He dropped whatever was in his hand which landed on the floor with a wet squelch. Then the demon begain to shake in a rather alarming fashion and emit strange pained little mewels.

Aziraphale rather feared at first that Crowley was having some sort of seizure. Then soon realized that the demon was crying. Not with tears, as snakes rather lacked tear ducts, but crying all the same. 

Aziraphale rushed right over and took the demon in his arms. He was hit my a rather pungent smell of urine. And he noticed that the thing Crowley had been holding was a pile of soiled pull ups. Well that did explain things. Aziraphale had no idea why Crowley felt the need to hide wet pull ups of all things from him. He miracled the sodden mess away, and carried the trembling Crowley over to the sofa. 

A few miracles later, and Aziraphale was wrapping his demon in soft blankets, tucking his toys in with him. A pressing a bottle of warm milk, honey, and just a bit of vodka (for restorative purposes) to the demons mouth. 

Crowley nursed, while Aziraphale stroked red hair, which had begun to grow out and was falling over Crowley pale face. Crowley still shook, but it had subsided from the rather terrifying epileptic-esque fit he'd been having before. 

When Crowley finished his bottle, Aziraphale checked his diaper. Crowley always wet when he had a bottle. And Crowley begain to shutter and writhe again. 

Aziraphale held him tight and stroked his back, wishing he could tell the demon everything was going to be alright. But he didn't know that. He didn't even know why Crowley was so upset in the first place. 

For just this once, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and Crowley was in a fresh diaper. This seemed to calm Crowley down a little. Squeezing Crowley rather tightly to his chest. Aziraphale said "Crowley dear. I'm going to ask you a few questions. Do you think you can answer? "

Crowley hid his reddened face in Aziraphale's chest. "I'm in trouble, and I'm going to get smacks."

Aziraphale was confused. 'Smacks?' he had never hit Crowley. He wouldn't dream of it. "Crowley dear, I won't hit you, you know that right?"

Crowley peered up at him. "You did before." 

"I never! ""Aziraphale begain, than paused, "When did I smack you? "

"When I didn't want a diaper change. I was naughty and you smacked me cause I'm bad. " Crowley hunkered down in Aziraphale's lap and stuck his thumb in his mouth. 

That little tap on Crowley's rear, and Crowley believed he was being hit because he was bad? Aziraphale was horrified. 

"I'm very sorry Crowley"

Crowley paused in his vigorous thumbs sucking to look up at Aziraphale suspiciously. "But I was naughty."

"No dear boy, you were being a bit stubborn, not naughty. Naughty would be doing a crayon drawing in one of my first editions."

Crowley looked aghast. "I wouldn't! You love your dumb old books. I wouldn't ruin something you love."

"I know dear." Aziraphale kissed the top of. Crowley's head. "And I promise no more more smacks. If you're ever really naughty you can sit in the corner."

Crowley looked both satisfied and suspicious. Buy he seemed to have settled down and was no longer trembling. Aziraphale really hated to disruption this new found peace, but he had to ask. "Crowley dear, why were you hiding your wet pull ups?"


	27. Chapter 27

Crowley slunk down even further in Aziraphale's lap. He seemed dangerously close to turning into a snake as little black scales were being to form on his face. 

"Crowley dear, I need you stay human shaped. Can you do that for me."

He received a hesitant nod. The scales begain to recede. 

Aziraphale stroked the demon's cheek. "Now Crowley whatever you tell me, I won't be mad."

Crowley gave him a look that said without words 'sure, you won't'

"I won't!" Aziraphale said primly. "You'll tell me, then we'll both have some cocoa, and have a cuddle and go back to bed."

Snakey eyes looked suspiciously at the angel. "Promise?"

"Promise." Said Aziraphale 

"Don't want to wear diapers anymore."

Aziraphale had hoped that wasn't the case. He didn't want his demon to get so big that he no longer needed Aziraphale's loving care. But in the end, this was about what Crowley needed wasn't it? So Aziraphale took a deep breath. "Why don't you want to dear? "

"So you don't have to change me anymore. No one likes baby littles. No one wants to change diapers forever."

"Oh Crowley." Aziraphale clutched him tighter. "You know dear, how there are different kinds of little's who fall at different ages?"

Crowley nodded, he knew that very well, because he fell at the littlest and absolute worst end of the spectrum. 

"Well there are different kinds of caregivers as well who prefer caring for different types of littles. Personally I prefer caring for a very young little."

Crowley stared at his angel in disbelief. 

Aziraphale forged on. "I rather like having someone who will let me carry and cuddle them constantly. And I like nothing better than to read aloud to a little while having them cozy in my lap nursing a bottle." He brought Crowley head forward and placed a kiss to his temple. 

"You can't like changing diapers." Came the almost petulant voice of his little demon. 

"I don't mind it one bit." Said Aziraphale firmly. "The God given biological tendencies of the physical form are perfectly nautual. "

Here Crowley rolled his eyes. 

"Besides" continued Aziraphale, "It's rather.... Intimate to care for someone it that way. And I feel, well... I feel closer to you when I do it."

"You shouldn't be closer to me." Came the now very definitely petulant voice of his demon. 

"Why ever not dear?"

"Cause I'm a demon and you're an angel."

"That hardly matters now, does it?"

Crowley had now slid so far down that he was curled into a ball on Aziraphale's lap. His face hidden in the angel's ample tummy. 

"You deserve better than me." Came the muffled voice form Aziraphale's midsection. 

Aziraphale reached down and pulled the demon up so that he was sitting up on Aziraphale's lap. He tipped Crowley's chin up with a finger. "Crowley dear, please look at me. There is no one better for you than me, not in the whole of creation. I love you. Little or big, I'll always want to love you and care for you. I know you don't believe me when I say it dear, but I'm going to show you, and maybe someday you will."

Crowley was trembling again and Aziraphale pulled him close, gently rocking him back and forth. Crowley pulled out his thumb with a wet 'pop' and not looking at Aziraphale said softly, "I love you too."


	28. Chapter 28

For several days Crowley had clung to Aziraphale like moss to a damp wall. Only allowing himself to be put down briefly for diaper changes. While most would find a clinging demon an irritation at best, Aziraphale was not most people, and was more that happy to indulge his demon. He petted and pampered Crowley. Peppering him with kisses on his head and face. Spending many hours cuddled up together reading aloud to Crowley while he nursed a bottle, or reading silently as Crowley played or slept. 

It was during a one of these times when Aziraphale was startled from his reading by a kiss on one chubby cheek. He looked up at Crowley who said (more to his lap, than Aziraphale) "I love you." And promptly pulled his blanket over his head. 

Aziraphale smiled at the demon shaped lump of blanket, and hugged it tight, placing a kiss on what Aziraphale rather hoped was Crowley's head. "I love you to dear boy. " And they sat there, curled up together for a long time neither of them speaking. Until Aziraphale decided it was past time for a diaper check. And he carried his wriggling demon in for a change. 

Aziraphale was contemplating making some changes to the bookshop. Not large ones, mind you, just ones that might make Crowley more comfortable here. A television for certain. While Aziraphale found them just a tad (very, he found them very) obnoxious, he knew that Crowley rather enjoyed them. He had thought about a crib, but well, he didn't want Crowley to sleep away from him. The only reason Aziraphale slept at all was so that he could do it with Crowley. Similarly he wasn't too find of the idea of a highchair. He liked eating and feeding Crowley while he was cuddled on his lap. 

He rather suspected that Crowley would pitch a full fledged fit if he got a changing table. But he might enjoy a playtent so that he could have a space of his own in the bookshop to play in, while Aziraphale did shop things like take inventory. (Aziraphale's way of taking inventory was to simply hole himself up in the backroom with a cup of cocoa and a good book for a couple hours. Aziraphale did not need to count his books. He knew exactly how many he had and where they were. He just like to occasionally do real bookshop owner things. It made him feel credible.) 

Aziraphale had never been able to spend so much time with Crowley before. They had often gone decades or centuries without seeing each other before they had bother settled in London. Then even, it wasn't uncommon for moths or years to pass between visits. Now Crowley was here with him so very close. Aziraphale couldn't imagine going for months or years without seeing his demon again

Crowley seemed to be happy with the arrangement as well. He was for the first time in his rather lengthy existence slipping fully into his little headspace. 

But well, nothing could ever happen in life without a few complications. 

Aziraphale had kept the shop closed ever since Crowley had been staying with him. Not that it mattered particularly what with Aziraphale's store policy of avoiding selling books at all costs. However when you ran a bookshop, sometimes people wanted to sell you books. (Which Aziraphale much preferred) 

Sometimes these people would call you up while you were bottle feeding the sleepy demon in you lap, and ask if you wanted to buy a very rate book that you had been after for years. They would ask if you wanted to arrange a meeting for tomorrow to view the book. Then without thinking you would say yes. When you hung up the phone there would be a worried pair of demonic yellow eyes petting up at you. 

This presented a teeny bit of a problem. Crowley didn't want to go out again while he was little, and the Demon was in no state to try and force himself to be big. Aziraphale couldn't and wouldn't leave Crowley alone. And for various reasons (mostly supernatural and demonic shyness related) a babysitter was out of the question entirely. 

Aziraphale didn't want to push Crowley to go out again. So a compromise was reached. Crowley would go out as a snake and wrap himself around Aziraphale's neck as they walked, then slither into Aziraphale's leather satchel while they went in. 

This was working splendidly until Crowley got bored. And when Crowley got bored interesting things happened. 

He slithered his way out of the satchel while Aziraphale was examining the manuscript. And spotted the seller's wife. Crowley just couldn't help himself, and she absently reached for a biscuit only to find a black and red snake curled up on her tea tray. (She would later swear she heard it his "hi") 

Aziraphale apologized profusely for his pet snake. Paid for his new very old book and hastily made an exit. 

Outside, Aziraphale said "Really, Crowley, really?" to writhing black and red mass around his neck. Crowley was still giving a snakey sort of laughing hiss. And this rather irritated Aziraphale, so he picked up Crowley, plopped him in the satchel and latched it. 

He didn't hear the hissed "Ssssssorry" that came from the bag. Or the little whine of "pleasssse let me out, I'll be good." As Aziraphale determinedly made his way back to the bookshop.


	29. Chapter 29

This thought Crowley, was much worse than the dark and bumpy satchel ride him. Worse than the corner time (without his doll or plushies for comfort) he had been subjected to when they had gotten home. Worse than Aziraphale feeding him and putting him straight to bed without a bottle or story, then not joining him. Just placing pillows all around the edge so Crowley couldn't fall out and leaving him! Alone! All night! 

Aziraphale was ignoring him. He'd gotten Crowley up for breakfast and a diaper change. (Though by the time he did it was closer to lunch) There were no tickles and few cuddles, Aziraphale was perpetualy distracted. He forgot to put powder or lotion on Crowley before he did up the new diaper. He only dressed Crowley in a plain black onesie, which Crowley hated. (Not the onesie itself but the fact that anyone could see he was wearing a diaper) The angel also managed to smear scrambled eggs all over Crowley's face during breakfast as Aziraphale seemed to have entirely forgotten where Crowley's mouth was located. 

Then Crowley was plopped on the floor in front of his toys and told to play. Which had been several hours ago now. Crowley was lonely and bored and wanted cuddles. Surely he couldn't still be being punished for scaring one teensy insignificant human could he? It wasn't like he had bitten her or anything. It wasn't his fault she didn't like snakes. She had even chucked a tea cup at him, which had hit him on the snoot and rather hurt. 

Crowley's diaper was beginning to get cold and itchy. He wriggled uncomfortably. He was also thirsty as the sippy cup of juice the angel had given him had long since been drunk. Also a bit peckish, which was entirely Aziraphale's fault for feeding him so regularly. He chewed on his paci thoughtfuly, and made up his mind to go and look for his angel. 

Aziraphale was sat at his desk hunched over his new purchase. Crowley hesitantly came up to the angel and tapped him on the shoulder. 

Aziraphale turned around to look at him. "Oh.... Yes, Crowley dear. What is it? "

"Hungry" Crowley said than after a pause, "and wet."

"Of course dear, I'll just be a minute. Why don't you go and wait for me? Hmmm? "

So Crowley did. The minute turned to minutes, which ticked into a half an hour, than an hour, then an hour and a half, till two hours had passed. Crowley shifted uncomfortably and realize a puddle had formed under him where his diaper had leaked. He wanted Aziraphale. 

He got up to find his angel, trying very, very hard (and rather failing) not to be upset. 

He tapped the angel's shoulder. "Oh, yes Crowley dear." Aziraphale got up from his book, and Crowley could have cried with relief. Aziraphale scooped him up then made a face. "You're all wet dear boy."

Crowley scowled. He was all wet because Aziraphale had waited forever to change him. But he said nothing. If Crowley had learned one thing in hell (Crowley had in fact learned many things in hell) it was that complaining about your punishment only made it worse. If Crowley could just last it out till the Angel decided Crowley's punishment was over then things would go back to way thery were, with cuddles and warm bottles, and ATTENTION from his angel. 

Aziraphale changed Crowley, putting an extra bit of diaper cream on the slightly redened skin. Then he miracled (not cooked, as he usualy did) pasta for dinner. Aziraphale ate methodically not slowly savoring each bite and making little noises like he usually did. He fed Crowley in much the same way, and forgot to give him a sippy of anything to drink with his meal. Crowley tugged at the Angel's waistcoat and said "thirsty" and was finally rewarded with a sippy full of juice. 

Aziraphale then decided that Crowley needed a nap. Yes, Crowley thought a nap was perfect! A nap meant that he and Aziraphale would snuggle together wrapped up in blankets with all of Crowley's plushies, either on the sofa or the couch and Crowley would get a warm bottle of milk or cocoa. Aziraphale might read aloud to him or or Crowley might just listen to Aziraphale's heartbeat lul him to sleep. 

This was not, however, what happened. Aziraphale deposited the demon on the bed, still clutching his red sippy cup of juice. Kissed him on the forehead, turned off the lights, and went back downstairs. 

Crowley lay there in the empty bed. Most of his favorite blankets, all of his stuffies and Lenore the doll were downstairs. He had nothing and no one to cuddle with. He felt truly achingly alone. So the demon curled up into a ball an begain to sob.


	30. Chapter 30

It had been seven hours since Aziraphale had laid Crowley down for a nap. Seven hours! Crowley had slept for some of that time, but he had dreamed of the bookshop on fire and not finding his angel anywhere. He woke up wetting his already soaked diaper and with a rather unpleasant cold feeling in his gut that was making his insides squirm. 

He sat in the middle of the bed and drew his legs up to his chest roccimg back and forth. The demon such his thumb in his mouth and begain to suck vigorously. (Aziraphale had forgotten to leave Crowley a pacifier and the demon didn't know where any of them we're, and was in no state to think of miracling one up.) 

Crowley couldn't absolutely could not take it anymore. He absolutely and without question had to figure out a way to make Aziraphale pay attention to him again. 

An idea begain to form. Aziraphale may be punishing him,(and Crowley may have deserved it) but the angel was really good and kind and gentle, at heart. If Crowley was hurt, really, really hurt surely the angel wouldn't withhold a few cuddles from him. After all Aziraphale had been so very good to him when he had that last touch of hypothermia. But it wasn't cold enough outside for that. Or hot enough to get heat stroke. 

Crowley racked his brains. (such as they were) Then he had it, the perfect idea! (this was debatable, very debatable) 

Crowley slid off the bed and tip toed down the hall until he found his destination. He reminded himself several times that he couldn't actually die. And it wasn't likely he would discorperate. Then he took a deep breath, brought his hands up to cover his head and face, and threw himself down the stairs. 

Crowley lay spred eagle at the bottom of the stairs. His head hurt, his ribs hurt, his right shoulder hurt, his left leg hurt. Crowley felt as if he was, at the moment a being simply compiled of various different hurts. But it was all worth it. Here scurrying toward him was his angel. 

"Whatever happened!? "

Crowley looked up with half lidded eyes. "Fell" It wasn't really a lie. Crowley had fell, he'd just fell on purpose. 

Aziraphale tisked, and looked the demon over, healing all the bruises and aches and fractures as he went along. Crowley basked under the angel's attention. And almost (almost, mind you) made a small happy noise when Aziraphale picked him up. 

Crowley was carried in to the bedroom and given a diaper change then tucked back in bed. Crowley fully expected Aziraphale to climb in with him, and they could have a nice cuddle. This was not what happened. Aziraphale started walking away, towards the door, intending to leave! 

So Crowley did the sensible, rational, logical thing and pitched a fit. As far as fits go it was a rather impressive one. Crowley howled and sobbed. He thrashed around the bed, clawing and kicking, pounding his fists against the mattress. He beat his head against the pillows and wailed. 

When he finally got tired, and his trembling and sobbing had died down, he looked up to find that Aziraphale was gone. He'd simply left Crowley there to suffer, all alone. He'd even turned out the lights. 

Something was very wrong with his angel. If there was one thing Crowley knew in the world it was his angel. And this wasn't like Aziraphale at all. 

Crowley had seen Aziraphale pause in a warzone to comfort a dying dog. He had seen Aziraphale show kindness and compassion to the worst humanity had to offer. He had once made Crowley stop the Bently so he could help a snail cross the road. Aziraphale would never leave anything to suffer, let alone someone he claimed to love. (Crowley still had his doubts about this) 

Something was very wrong indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my tumblr is DamagedDolly666 if you would like to pop over there and message me a picture of your tear stained face, plot ideas,(I won't garentee I'll use them), threats to murder me if I don't give Crowley all the love and cuddles he deserves, whatever. 
> 
> I post mostly aesthetic/art/fandom/fashion stuff. Fair warning, there is horror stuff and might be some gore/menhera/medical stuff. Mostly teeth. I really like teeth.


	31. Chapter 31

Crowley was going to have to do things. Crowley hated doing things, he wasn't really very good at doing things either. There was after all a reason he had lied to Hell for so long instead of actually doing his job. (Other than that he simply didn't want to) 

He got up off the bed and stood up, pondering what to do first, because you had to do something first didn't you? 

He stripped off his onesie and diaper, which he had wet sometime during his fit. And padded to the closet where Aziraphale had put some of his diapers and clothes. He pulled on a pull up, and some dark red leggings. Then he wrestled himself into a long black and red striped sweater. (He had forgotten how much bloody effort it was to dress himself.) He plopped down on the floor to wrestle on some black socks and black boots. He tucked the laces in the boot instead of tying them. Crowley had never learned to tie shoelaces. He had always simply miracled them tied. However he couldn't now, he didn't want to give Aziraphale any indication whatsoever that he was up to something. 

Crowley got up from the floor and headed downstairs. 

He paused at the sofa and the pile of his toys that had been abandoned there. He picked up all of his toys and sat them in a row on the sofa. He kissed each one of their heads and quietly told them that he loved them. First the angel and devil bears, then the snake, the unicorn, and finally Lenore. It felt a lot like the goodbye Crowley hoped it wasn't. 

He resolutly walked to where Aziraphale was still reading. He could see in the dim lamp light that the angel's eyes had gone glassy, and his face looked strangely tight and drawn. 

Crowley sat down cross legged and stuck his thumb in his mouth then watched as the angel read fervently. Crowley thought that he knew what this was. He also hoped very, very much that he was wrong. 

If it was what he thought it was, Crowley had only ever heard of one other like it, owned by the Marquis De Sade. (It hadn't ended particularly well) Crowley believed it was one of hell's inventions, (though it might have been heaven's, their inventions were often worse than hell's) but infinatly worse than pop-up adds, or traffic on the M25, or the strange and inconvenient hours post offices were open. 

Crowley had to do this, he told himself. He had to be not pathetic for once, he had to actually get this right. For Aziraphale. For his angel. He got up and crept towards Aziraphale, tapping him on the shoulder. 

Aziraphale didn't answer, didn't even look behind.

"I love you Angel." Crowley said, but this elicited no response. "I'm sorry Aziraphale."

Then Crowley than gave his angel a sharp whack between the shoulder blades where his wings met his back. Aziraphale jerked around and Crowley grabbed the rather large (and quite heavy) book and ran. Crowley took the stairs two at a time, grateful for once for his corporations long, gangly legs which easily outpaced Aziraphale's shorter ones. 

Crowley shut and locked the bedroom door behind him. And pitched the book into the fireplace that Aziraphale never like. Then he oppened up his mouth and with one deep breath spewed hellfire all over it. 

Buy this time Aziraphale had miracled the door open and was now standing beside Crowley staring at the book in the fireplace smoldering into ashes. He rounded in Crowley.

"What have you done. What have you done you foul little devil!" Aziraphale raised a hand, and before Crowley could blink that hand was coming down on the side of his face with a resounding smack. 

Two things than happened to Crowley in rather rapid succession. He felt his bladder empty into his pullups and he fell backwards onto his bottom with a thump and a wet squish. 

He huddled himself in the corner of the room, sucking his thumb and running his fingers over the hem of his sweater. Crowley watched Aziraphale as he watched the fire. 

As the last embers dyed away, he saw the glassy sheen begin to receede from the angels eyes. He turned around and looked at Crowley curled up in the corner, than back at the fireplace, then back at Crowley once more. Blue eyes begain to fill with tears.

"Oh Crowley, what have I done? What have I done? "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is this so popular. HoW? I just couldn't sleep one night, and on a whim I was like 'I'm going to do some self indulgent perving up of one of my favorite books/shows with a sort of niche fetish of mine. Oh, and make Crowley suffer as much as possible, cause i'm into that." Now it has like 4,000 hits, and I dOn'T kNoW wHaT's GoInG on.


	32. Chapter 32

Crowley got up slowly and approached the angel. He stood before him and without hesitation wrapped his arms around Aziraphale. He could feel the angel tremble under him. 

Crowley gently led Aziraphale over to the bed, he miracled Aziraphale clothes off, and a white nightshirt on. (Which Aziraphale had owned and kept in excellent condition since 1887, thank you very much.) Crowley gently pushed Aziraphale down on the pile of pillows. (Aziraphale was rather fond of pillows) Then he toed off his boots and climbed in with the angel. Crowley slithered over to Aziraphale and wrapped himself around Aziraphale as beat he could in his human form. 

Aziraphale buried his face into Crowley's hair, and Crowley could feel the hot wetness of tears. His angel shook under him. Crowley just held him until his breathing evened out and only when Crowley knew for certain the angel was asleep did he let himself drift off as well. 

Aziraphale woke to a warm wetness seeping on to one of his thighs and a gentle hissing noise. Crowley had wet the bed. Aziraphale snuck one hand down to Crowley's bottom to and felt a pull up instead of Crowley's usual (and much needed) diaper. He didn't remember putting Crowley in a pull up. He didn't remember much of the past day or two. He pulled Crowley closer to him. 

Aziraphale had worked so hard to gain Crowley's trust. To let the demon know that he would always and forever take care of him.(till the world really did end, till they both crumbled to dust) Now look what he'd gone and done. Just as Crowley was getting comfortable around him. Comfortable enough to play in front of Aziraphale. Comfortable to let the angle bottle fed him and change his diapers and love him, wholly and without restraint. Aziraphale had buggered it up. Royaly. He had betrayed Crowley. Crowley his friend, his love, the one being who he cherished above all others in the universe. The being who he would and had, defied heaven and hell for. Crowley who, (if it really came down to it, and there was absolutely no other options because he really would make a dreadful demon) he would fall for. 

Aziraphale had struck Crowley. Aziraphale had hit him and neglected him. How long had Crowley been changing his own pullups? Had Aziraphale fed him? Cuddled him? Aziraphale was almost horribly, nauseatingly certain that he had barely paid his poor demon any attention at all. And Crowley was a creature who needed attention, he craved it. There was always something soft, and raw, and aching about the demon. Even though Crowley tried to hide it with a swagger and fashionable clothing, pretending to be the bastard that he so wasn't. The bastard that Aziraphale often was. 

Aziraphale waved a hand over his demon. Miracling away the mess Crowley had made, and a new diaper on the little demon. He longed to take care of Crowley, but felt as if he didn't deserve to touch him after what he had done. Maybe Crowley would never want Aziraphale to touch him again. He could hardly blame the demon. Maybe Crowley would leave. 

An eternity without Crowley in it seemed much too vast and cold for Aziraphale's liking. Curling up on the plush sofa reading wouldn't be the same without Crowley's cool (he was after all cold blooded) weight in his lap. Crowley wouldn't ever pester him when he was making dinner or yell at his plants. The would never go out to dinner again, or the park. There would just be Aziraphale and the large, achingly demon shaped hole beside him where Crowley used to be. 

He pulled the demon even closer to him. He miracled up Crowley's blankets and toys to tuck around him. Then a pacifier in place of his thumb. Crowley snuffled and wriggled further into Aziraphale's warmpth in his sleep. 

Aziraphale clung to the demon and silently wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My local Walmart is moving literally everything around for the next like eight weeks and I feel it can only be the nefarious work of the demon Crowley. Like bro, I just want to buy hummus, and Halloween decorations.


	33. Chapter 33

Crowley woke up snuggled up against his angel. His blankets were pulled up around him, he was hugging his plushies, (his diaper was a little wet, but that was inconsequencial) he had a pacifier firmly placed in his mouth, Aziraphale was there (had he mentioned that? It was important) and all was right with the world. Or at leat Crowley thought so. Others, say for instance the angel lying next to him might have a different opinion on the matter. 

Aziraphale sat up, and slid off the bed. Crowley sat up as well and watched as Aziraphale stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor. 

The angel nervously wrung a handkerchief (lace edged) that had just appeared in his hands. "Crowley dear, I really am terribly sorry. I know you might never forgive me, and I don't know if I can ever make it up to you.. "

Crowley cut him off "It's alright angel" he said with a shrug. 

"It most certainly isn't!"

Crowley shrugged again and shifted on the bed. "I'm wet." The demon looked pleading at Aziraphale. 

"Oh yes, dear, of course."

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and Crowley's diaper was dry. Crowley frowned. Getting his diaper changes the human way was embarrassing but it was also time that he had Aziraphale's undivided attention, and Crowley was loathe to give that up. 

He lifted his arms up, in the universal symbol of 'pick me up please'. Aziraphale did pick him up after some hesitation. But the angel didn't hold him tight like he usually did. Instead he held on gingerly as if the demon was made of something very breakable, and kept Crowley at a distance from him. 

Crowley didn't like this. He didn't like it either when Aziraphale miracled up a highchair to place him in instead of holding him on his lap like usual. Crowley wriggled and glared his disquiet with the new seating arrangements. 

Aziraphale fed him runny eggs and toast. (As someone who was mostly a snake, Crowley quite liked eggs) Then Aziraphale picked him up in his too loose hold once again and took them downstairs to the sofa. He sat. Crowley on one end and himself on the other, and though it was only a few feet, the distance between them seemed insurmountable. 

Crowley was beginning to wonder if he had done something wrong. Maybe burning the book hadn't been enough? Maybe it had changed Aziraphale forever.(this thought frightened the demon terribly) Maybe Aziraphale was just mad at him for destroying a book? (Book burning had always been one of the worst sins imaginable to the Angel. He had been practicaly inconsolable after the Library of Alexandria burnt down) 

Crowley was cold, and wriggled around on the sofa for a few minutes, contemplating just going over and trying to crawl in the angel's lap when he spoke. Crowley stopped his wriggling. 

"Crowley, I need you to tell me what that book was"

Crowley frowned, "cold"

"I'm sorry dear, what? 

"I'm cooolllddd" Crowley definitely didn't whine. 

"Oh certainly dear" And Aziraphale snapped up a heating pad and several of his blankets, which was not what Crowley wanted at all. 

"Unicorn? " Crowley asked, and this time Aziraphale knew exactly what he meant. Crowley clutched his unicorn and huddled down into his blankets and heating pad, then popped his pacifier out of his mouth. "The book was made in the fourteenth century...


	34. Chapter 34

"The book was made in the fourteenth century (both Aziraphale and Crowley shuttered at the mention of that particular era) in a monistary. I dunno know if it was a Satanic one or one of your lot's. I never had anything to do with it, just heard about it on the demonic grapevine. I heard the story two ways see. Either it was made to tempt people so they would do the thing they we're tempted to do so they'd end up downstairs. Or they wouldn't do the thing they were tempted to do and they'd go upstairs." (Crowley secretly thought it sounded more like Gabriel's logic than any of his lot's, but he didn't want to upset the angel further, so he just snuggled down further with his unicorn and continued)

"Do you remember the chaps that wrote Malleus Maleficarum?"

Aziraphale nodded he remembered very well the book that had started the witch hysteria and that whole nasty dumping in the river, burning at the stake business. 

"Well it was given to one of them, not sure which. Don't even remember their blood names really. Anyway he was a bit of a sadist, well more of a bit really. That was the problem of the book it made people's desires stronger and the only thing that people ever seemed to really desire was to hurt one another. 

Well after the entire witch hunting debacle, it went missing for a bit, then popped up in the Marquis de Sade's library."

"Oh dear" Said Aziraphale. 

"Then it disappeared again till you got it, as far as I know angel."

"How does it... Well how does it work exactly? Does it make people do things they wouldn't already do? "

"Nah," said Crowley who was getting rather bored of this explanation stuff. He rather wished they would just get to the bit at the end where he got to snuggle with Aziraphale. Maybe with a nice bottle of milk, honey and vodka again. "It's like.... "Crowley paused and thought for a moment. "Well, have you ever seen the Lord of the Rings?"

"You mean the novel? By Tolkien? Nice chap, knew rather a lot about languages and flowers, very interesting to talk to. He signed my copy, first edition, you know, 'to my dear friend Aziraphale. '"

Crowley popped his thumb out of his mouth which had found its way there during Aziraphale's ramblings. "The book is like the one ring. Does the same sort of stuff, whispered little things in your ear. I imagine it told you to keep reading. " Crowley wriggled in his seat, he rather fancied a nap now. But Aziraphale wasn't looking at him, he was staring in a rather melancholic manner off into the distance. Crowley tears glistening down pale cheeks. 

"I hit you."

Crowley shrugged "It's alright angel."

"No it isn't! If the book worked like you said it does it must mean that I... That I desired to hit you." Aziraphale broke down in sobs. 

Crowley shrugged again. Plenty of people had hit him before. Occasionally he wanted to hit himself (very hard) and Aziraphale hadn't even been his right mind when he did it. Crowley didn't see what all the fuss was about. But Aziraphale was crying, and Crowley had to do something. 

He got up, tucked his unicorn under one arm, and walked over to Aziraphale, pulling the angel up from the sofa. Crowley took his hand and led him back upstairs to the bedroom. He undressed the angel and laid him down on his mountain of pillows. 

Crowley sat cross legged on the bed facing Aziraphale. He miracled a cup of cocoa for the angel. But Aziraphale's hands shook and sloshed some over the rim of the angel wing mug, so Crowley gently placed his hands over the angel's and helped him bring the much to his lips. After Crowley helped Aziraphale finish his Cocoa, he tucked the rather unresponsive angel into bed, then slithered in himself. 

He tried to curl up to Aziraphale, but the angel stiffened up, so Crowley retreated to his side of the bed. He clutched his stuffies and sucked his pacifier for comfort. Aziraphale was just, reasoned Crowley reasonably, probably just suffering the after effects of whatever hold that the cursed (literally) book had on him. Crowley watched his angel intently as he fell into an uneasy slumber. 

Aziraphale would be back to normal when they woke up. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. 

Please Go... Sa... Somebody, let his angel be alright.


	35. Chapter 35

One of the first things Aziraphale noticed when he woke up was that Crowley had tucked several of his stuffed toys and blankets around Aziraphale. Such kindness (though he would never tell Crowley that he though it was kind) made the angles melt. Yet at the same time, Aziraphale felt dreadful, he didn't deserve such care and kindnesses from the little demon he had been so dreadful to. He could feel tears starting up again. 

"Aziraphale?" Came a rather quiet voice from the other side of the bed. Crowley was waring his dark glasses again. Aziraphale longed to reach over and take them off, but with current circumstances Aziraphale couldn't blame Crowley for hiding. 

"Aziraphale, do you want me to leave? " 

"No, Crowley dear, I don't want you to leave." But I don't deserve to have you here either was the part Aziraphale didn't say. "Do you... Do you want to leave? "

"No" Crowley said simply, and got up from the bed. "Wait here and the demon padded away. 

He brought back breakfast and a book on a great silver tray. Crowley plonked it on Aziraphale's lap looking very satisfied with himself. Aziraphale begain to cry again. 

"I'm sorry angel! Do you not like jam on toast? Did I get the eggs wrong? Is it the book?"

"No darling, " Aziraphale wiped at his eyes with a miracled handkerchief, "it's only that I don't deserve this, I don't deserve you."

Crowley looked dreadfully confused. Crowley was dreadfully confused. 

"I hit you Crowley! "

Crowley shrugged (he felt like he had been doing that an awful lot lately) "so? "

"So! Crowley you do know that people shouldn't go around hitting you, least of all your caretaker. And what a dreadful caretaker I turned out to be."

Crowley launched himself at the bed, just narrowly avoiding spilling breakfast. Aziraphale he demon latched himself firmly to one of Aziraphale's legs "Nooooo, you're the best angel! You're taking care of me, you can do whatever you want with me!"

Aziraphale was aghast. "No Crowley I can't! Taking care of you should mean just that, taking care of you. Loving you, always."

"I'm naughty, I like making trouble, and I'm frustrating, aaaannndd I burnt your book. "

Aziraphale pulled the demon up to his lap and held him gently. "Crowley darling listen to me. First of all that, and I can hardly believe I'm saying this, is a book the world is better off without. Secondly, I know that you're a troublesome little devil. I won't punish you for being mischevious. I won't punish you unless your really, really naughty. Then I would never consciously do it by causing you pain. If I ever hurt you Crowley I expect you to tell me dear. Can you do that? "

Crowley gave a small nod. Though Aziraphale was rather unsure if Crowley really did understand. Actions seemed to convince his dear demon more that words ever did. 

A little miracle reheated breakfast, and Aziraphale fed both Crowley and himself. He was going to give Crowley a bottle, but thought it might be best to check Crowley's diaper first. Crowley had never to Aziraphale's knowledge gone to sleep and not woken up with a wet bed or diaper. 

Aziraphale was going to miracle Crowley a new diaper, when a rather timid request was made from a red faced demon. "The other way"

"The other way? You mean in the change mat?"

Aziraphale beamed and picked the demon up. "I'm so proud of you darling." Aziraphale rubbed the demon's thin tummy, while he placed a pacifier in his mouth. 

Crowley was now a similar shade of red as his hair. "I just don't like all your holier than thou angel magic being used on me." Crowley sniffed. 

Aziraphale just kept beaming down at the demon as he changed his rather sodden diaper. (Really Aziraphale was going to have to start checking Crowley's diaper much more often. The demon could rarely be relied on the tell Aziraphale when he was wet.) The angel was extra gentle with Crowley, carefully rubbing in lotion and pouring powder. The demon was treated. To what was rather a barrage of belly kisses from the angel, that made Crowley giggle (Crowley would sooner take a holy water bath than admit that such a sound ever came from his mouth) and writhe. 

Crowley of course didn't actually need diapers. (Unless of course he didn't want to have wet pants ever couple of hours and a wet bed ever night) But, he had to admit it wasn't quite so bad wearing them if it meant getting so much of his angels undivided attention. 

After the diaper change Crowley tugged on Aziraphale's sleeve. "Bottle?"

"Of course dear boy"

"Honey? "

"Of course"

"Vodka?"

"Oh really Crowley"

"Pleeeeaaaasssee? "

"Oh alright dear"


	36. Chapter 36

Apparently Crowley's new favorite pastime was staring at Aziraphale. It was as though Crowley expected the angel to leave or bust out in tears, or maybe discorperate at any given second. 

Crowley had also taken to getting things for the angel, books, sandwiches to nibble on, cups of tea, blankets, his reading glasses. (which Aziraphale really didn't need, he just thought they made him look clever and distinguished) There was even one rather disastrous incident where Crowley attempted to make Aziraphale a cup of cocoa then human way. (Oh dear God the mess!) 

Crowley was also insisting that he didn't need things. He didn't need a diaper change (he did, rather badly in fact) He could miracle up his own sippy cup of juice. Aziraphale should just stay right there and rest, thank you very much. 

Aziraphale was tired of resting. As much as it was nice to know how much Crowley loved and cared for him, Aziraphale vastly preferred being the one doing the taking care of. So Aziraphale was determined that he was going to get Crowley to let himself slide back into his little headspace and let Aziraphale take care of him again. 

Aziraphale snuck away while Crowley was napping. It was rather difficult to disentangle himself from the demon, but Aziraphale managed it. He got a phone book and looked up a number, then made a telephone call. 

The package came the next day when Aziraphale was dressing Crowley, he set the demon down on the bed and told him to stay put while he went to get the door. 

Crowley as Aziraphale rather expected, did not in fact stay put. The angel caught sight of him sneaking about behind bookshelves. The dear thing hadn't even bothered to finish getting dressed. He was currently lurking around the bookshop in just a diaper and shirt that said "lil devil."

"You might as well come out darling, the package is for you."

"For me? " Crowley asked, but muffled around his pacifier it came out as more like "fuh muh? " 

Aziraphale knew what he meant anyway. "Yes dear boy" the angel gestured to the large, recently opened box. "Why don't you come and see? "

Crowley scurried over and peered in the box. He looked up at Aziraphale, them back to the large assortment of toys in the box, then back to Aziraphale. His expression was so hesitant an cautious, it nearly broke the angel's heart. 

Aziraphale smiled down gently and carefully nudged the little demon back towards the box. "Go on dear"

Crowley's eyes widened, and then he gave a very fangy smile and quite literally dived in the box.


	37. Chapter 37

Things had been going almost well. Both Crowley and Aziraphale seemed to have relaxed a little. Aziraphale was being very certaun to give Crowley all the gentle live and attention he needed, then a bit besides, because whatever Crowley thought he did deserve it. 

Crowley had, for the most part stopped looking at Aziraphale like he was going to suddenly disappear. They had had a rather lovely and uneventful couple of days. There days were filled with cuddles and reading aloud, eating, diaper changes, playing, and more lazy cuddling. 

Crowley remembered very little of heaven, but he was certain it wasn't as nice as this. He had his angel's undivided attention. His angel who didn't seem to mind (for reasons Crowley couldn't fathom) changing him, cuddling him, feeding him, reading to him. Aziraphale didn't even seem to mind when Crowley turned into a snake and played in the packing peanuts that we're in the box of toys Aziraphale gave him. (There was a mess, lots of mess, packing peanuts everywhere) 

Now it was evening, Crowley was tucked up against Aziraphale on the sofa. His growing collect of stuffies and dolls spread out on the sofa behind him. Aziraphale was reading aloud the next book in the Lenore series which he had gotten Crowley. (Along with a doll of Annabelle. Who was Lenore's unlikevly best friend, a ghost girl that drowned on the moors.)

Crowley was clutching both dolls tightly as Aziraphale was getting to the climax of the story. The jewel thief was chasing Lenore in the dark, and he had just cornered her in the ruins of the old castle when... there was a knock on the door. (Not on a knock on the door in the book, mind you. A knock on the door of the bookshop) 

Aziraphale told Crowley to stay put, and went to answer the door. Grumbling all the while about what sort of rude personage would come attempting to buy one of his precious books at this most definitely unsociable hour. 

When he got to the door, Aziraphale found that it was not indeed a customer but Nathaniel, who was holding a large pile of luggage in one arm and Annie in the other. 

"I'm sorry Aziraphale, but there's been a family emergency, and well... Can I leave Annie with you for a while? "

In most circumstances, Aziraphale would say something like 'Certainly my dear boy, I'd be delighted to care for Annie for however long you need. " However now Aziraphale had a little of his own to think about. Crowley was just barley comfortable with Aziraphale seeing him little. He didn't imagine that Crowley would much appreciate him bringing someone else into the equation. 

"Normally I would absolutely love to, but, you see dear boy, I've recently taken on a little of my own and... "

"Is it the readhead?" Nathaniel smiled in a rather wide and alarming fashion. 

"Why yes"

"Knew it." Nathaniel said still smiling rather disconcertingly. Aziraphale was reminded rather unhappily of a shark. "Anyway," Nathaniel pushed, rather aggressively, Annie and a couple of obnoxiously pink bags into Aziraphale's arms, "I've got to be off. " he waved over his shoulder when he was halfway down the street. "Call you"

Aziraphale was left in his door way holding a little and her bags and thinking how Crowley really wasn't going to take this well.


	38. Chapter 38

Aziraphale left Annie in the front room of the bookshop for a minute, so that he could go to talk to Crowley. 

Crowley was as expected, less than pleased. (In fact he was very displeased) If Aziraphale hadn't begged him (with big blue eyes and a little pout) he would have changed clothes, downed a handful of suppressants, and trimped back to his apartment till this new menace was gone. (Why did that it seem so hard to get his angel's undivided attention for any length of time? Why did things have to keep happening? Crowley didn't like things happening. He was seriously contemplating seeing if he could stop time again) 

Aziraphale though that it might be nice for Crowley and Annie to be friends. Crowley thought otherwise. He thought it might be nice if Annie left and never came back. But he promised Aziraphale he wouldn't be terrible to her. 

Annie ran into the room, and gave an odd sort of half shriek laugh when she saw him. Crowley's bladder (the traitor) released into his diaper and he cowered (he would call it strategically retreating) down into his blankets. Giving the squealing little a glare she couldn't see behind his dark glasses. 

Annie then plopped herself on the sofa by Crowley, "Hi baby." She said, rather unnecessarily loudly, given that she was less than a foot away from Crowley. 

Crowley glared again, "I'm not a baby." But Annie's attention had already wandered to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale looked a little apprehensive, but smiled down at the both of them and told them he was going to make night time bottles for the both of them, and wouldn't they play nice together? 

As soon as Aziraphale left Annie grabbed a hold of Crowley's thin arm and yanked him up out of his cocoon of blankets. 

"Get your toys, and I'll get mine. I wanna play."

Crowley rather reluctantly (very, very reluctantly) gathered up his toys and brought them over to where Annie had spread her own out on the floor. 

She gave a pointed look to the buldge that his diaper made in the crotch of his feetie pajamas. "Not a baby huh?"

Crowley glared, "what do you wear then?"

Crowley thought he rally had her here. Annie proudly pulled up her skirt to reveal pink princess patterned pull ups. 

"They're still diapers." Crowley informed her smugly. 

Annie did not like this. "They are not!" (If she had been standing, it is likely that this exclamation would have been punctuated by a stomped foot.) "They are big girl panties, I can take off if I need to go potty. You're wearing baby diapers. You can't take them off cause you don't need to, cause you don't know when you have to go potty do you? " This last bit was said with a rather self satisfied smile, and Crowley really didn't care for how true it was. 

"If you go to the bathroom so well why do you still need pull up diapers then? Why don't you just wear regular panties then? It's because you sssstilll have accidentsssss, isssn't it?" Crowley smugly hissed. 

Annie's reasonable and articulate response was throw Ballerina Barbie at his head and pout. "Bet you mess your diapers."

"Nope" Crowley said, which was the truth. He could tell when that particular bodily function was imminent, and just miricale it away. Unlike his traitorous bladder, which decided to empty itself without his concent or any prior warning whatsoever. 

Crowley and Annie proceeded to have an argument about whether or not Crowley should play with dolls on account of his being a boy. (Or rather a celestial entity in a currently male shaped corporation) The argument lasted until Aziraphale came back, then Annie, suddenly stopped speaking and was all smiles and giggles for Aziraphale. She got her bottle first, whicjlh definitely didn't bother Crowley at all. Not one bit. No sir.


	39. Chapter 39

Crowley in bed happily snuggled in his angel's plush arms. Annie was banished to the spare room. ( which hadn't existed until recently) Things were looking up for Crowley. He had all his toys around him, he was lazily playing with his plush activity cube, chasing star shaped beads around on their strings and tugging at little plush planets that squeaked satisfyingly like dying mice when he squeezed them. Aziraphale was humming something and Crowley felt himself drifting off. 

Crowley was awoken by something landing in the middle of the bed. Then careening towards his angel. Crowley was extremely alarmed until he realized it was just Annie, who was now clinging to Aziraphale and squalling about missing her daddy. 

Aziraphale being the soft, (headed) kind hearted, (mostly, when people weren't trying to buy his books) angel that he was, agreeded to let the distraught little sleep with them. He did not mean for her to take up residence in the middle of the bed, seperating Crowley and himself, but that's what she did.

Crowley put his dark glasses back on, so Annie wouldn't see his snakey eyes by accident, and curled up on his side of the bed away from his angel and the leech currently clinging to him. Annie didn't seem to even be happy with this, as every so often she would use her heel to five Crowley a good, solid kick. 

At around the third kick Crowley gathered up his toys and blankets and went to sleep on the plush sofa in the bookshop. Aziraphale, being asleep at the time didn't notice. Annie however, who was awake did notice, and smiled before snuggling into Aziraphale. 

Crowley couldn't sleep. He had only been here with Aziraphale for a little while, a blink in time compared to their semi immortal existences, but he found that he now couldn't sleep without the angel's warmpth beside him. The cold, wet, and slightly itchy diaper didn't help much either. Crowley wouldn't ever wake Aziraphale up just to change him, but even if he did he would have to do it in front of Annie. That was a humiliation Crowley couldn't take. 

He finally drifted off into an uneasy slumber as the first rays of dawn shown over the horizon. 

Crowley woke up to Aziraphale standing over him holding a smiling Annie on one hip. "What are you doing down here, dear boy? I was terribly worried when I couldn't fins you this morning."

Crowley shrugged, "too crowded in bed" he mumbled, "too hot."

"Oh dear I see, next time wake me up when you're uncomfortable and we can sort it out together hmm? " He ruffled Crowley's hair, which had grown out halfway to his shoulders and begain to curl. 

Crowley nodded. 

Aziraphale then set Annie down and told her and Crowley to play nicely while he made breakfast. 

"Did you wet your diaper last night baby?"

"No" Crowley ground out, which was a lie. He had wet again during his sleep and now needed a diaper change quite desperately. "Did you?"

Annie pulled up her nightshirt to reveal her unsoiled pullups "nope" she said popping the p. "Why do you wear those weird glasses all the time?"

Crowley sniffed, "I have an eye condition, light hurts them" This was not entirely a lie, Crowley snake like eyeballs we're very sensitive to light, which was part of the reason he wore the dark glasses so frequently. 

Annie reached for his glasses, and Crowley smacked her hand away. She recoiled, then looked from her had to Crowley and smiled. The wail she gave was deafening. 

Aziraphale came running. "Whatever happened? "

Annie clung to the angel. "He hit me!"

Aziraphale looked to Crowley. "She tried to take of my glasses! "

"Look Annie dear, Crowley doesn't like it when you touch his glasses. And Crowley darling? Please don't hit Annie. Now are we alright?"

Annie gave a noded, and so did Crowley. (Reluctantly very, reluctantly) 

"Well now," Aziraphale said, "Annie will you be alright here for a moment whole I go get Crowley changed?"

Annie smiled, "I've course, I'm a big girl!"

Aziraphale patted her on the head "Yes you are darling"

As Crowley was being carried upstairs, he could see over Aziraphale's shoulder Annie mouthing the word "baby" over and over.,


	40. Chapter 40

Up until right this moment, Crowley had thought that Annie was just the garden variety brat. Now he suspected it was much worse. 

All day Annie had been doing her level best to get Crowley into trouble, while at the same time showing what a big and responsible girl she was. She seemed to enjoy reminding Crowley of his place as a "dumb baby" at every turn. Crowley was fuming. (Not literally, though he had been known to) Her most irritating habit to date had been paying very close attention for the any subtle hissing noises or diaper sagging, any hint that Crowley had had an accident. Then she would gleefully run and tell Aziraphale. Crowley hated it. 

Crowley's chance for revenge came when Aziraphale's ancient phone rang. (Aziraphale never paid phone bills, the phone worked simply because he expected it to) It was not a customer as Aziraphale had feared. It was someone who was offering to sell him a rare book. (Because it worked out so well last time) Aziraphale being Aziraphale, was thinking less about the previous catastrophe and more about the possibility of acquiring a new very old book he hadn't yet read.

But there was a teeny impediment to Aziraphale's book buying dreams. Or more specifically two teeny impediments. Annie however had a suggestion. "I'll watch the baby!"

Aziraphale looked apprehensive. "Oh, I don't know dear."

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of baby Crowley. Daddy lets me watch Anton by myself sometimes, and he's a baby like Crowley. He wears diapers and everything."

Aziraphale still looked apprehensive. 

An idea was forming in Crowley's head, it was squirming around his mind taking form. Crowley smiled, showing teeth that were too sharp to be human. "It's okay Aziraphale, you can go."

"Crowley dear, are you sure you'll be alright?"

Crowley nodded. 

"Alright dear, now I'll only be gone for an hour. The number of the man with the book is buy the telephone, so you can call if anything happeneds. Don't answer the door. And Crowley dear, I'll change you before I go. You two just stay downstairs and play here alright?" 

Aziraphale hugged them both and kissed Crowley on the cheek. He looked over them one more time worriedly. Crowley nodded his assurance. And Aziraphale left, looking back no less then five times before he was out the door. 

Annie stood up and loomed over Crowley her hands on her hips "I'm in charge now dumb baby."

Crowley just smiled, no matter what happened during this hour, Crowley intended to run into Aziraphale's arms and cry about how how mean Annie had been to him. 

It was less dreadfull that Crowley had imagined. Mostly Annie just bossed him around, kept asking if the baby had wet his diaper and made him play very boring Barbie games. 

About fifteen minutes in Annie stood up and announced that she had to go to the bathroom. (like a big girl) She then ordered Crowley to stay put and not play with any of her toys while she was going to the bathroom. (like a big girl) 

Crowley just sucked on his paci and nodded having paid no intention whatsoever to what she was saying. 

After a while it occurred to Crowley that Annie had been gone an awful long time. So Crowley got up and crept towards the bathroom, only to find it empty. He poked around some more, only to hear rustling from the backroom of the backroom (this is where Aziraphale kept the most rare of his books, and all of his misprinted bibles. It was usually kept locked, and Aziraphale kept the key in his bedroom. Crowley narrowed his eyes. What was Annie doing in there? 

Being the overly dramatic demon that Crowley was, he opened the door with a bag, stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and asked "What are you doing?"


	41. Chapter 41

Annie glared at him, "nothing!"

Yellow eyes narrowed "You clearly weren't doing nothing in this locked room you aren't supposed to be in." Annie had been staring intently at the shelves of books, trailing her finger over the spines, almost like she was looking for something. Crowley was really quite suspicious at this point. "You," Crowley continued, "were looking for ssssomething weren't you?"

Annie leveled him with another glare. "So what if I was? What are you going to do about it anyway?"

"I don't think Aziraphale would be happy to know he'sss harboring a little sssssneak thief, who'ssss after one of his precious booksss." Crowley hissed happily. For once he had the upper hand against this new menace. 

"You really think Aziraphale would believe you? He doesn't even want you here."

"He does so! " Crowley almost believe it when he said it. 

"No he doesn't. Him and my daddy talked an awful lot ya know. He told NY daddy all about what kind of little he wanted, and it definitely wasn't you."

"Aziraphale said he liked baby littles!" 

"Yea, but not like you. You think you're a good little? You too tall and skinny, and you have those weird glasses, I bet your eyes look weird too. You're never any fun, most of the time you act like you don't want to be a little at all. Who'd want a nasty little sulking baby like you around? Aziraphale's probably only taking care of you cause he feels sorry for you."

"That's not true!" Though Crowley no linger believed that. He couldn't let Annie win, even if the dreadful little brat was right. And he certainly wouldn't let her steal from his angel. "And it doesn't change the fact that you're a rotten little thief. Bet your daddy won't like that!"

Annie gave him a look that managed to convey that she believed him to be the dumbest thing currently in existence. "You do you think told me to take the book you dumb little baby!" 

Crowley hadn't thought of this. But rotten little Annie and her equaly rotten daddy weren't going to get a thing of Aziraphale's if Crowley had anything to say about the matter. "Bad things happen to people who try to steal Aziraphale's books."

"Yea?" Scoffed Annie. "Like what?"

"Like this" Crowley then gave the little brat a delightful peek at his most terrifying, fangy snake face. Her cries as she ran past him screaming were music to Crowley's snake little ears. They however, didn't quite sooth the gnawing doubts that Annie's words had set loose somewhere in the region of Crowley's guts.


	42. Chapter 42

It had been a very peculiar book buying experience for Aziraphale, mostly because he hadn't actually bought a book. Generally even when the seller didn't have the book they said they did, or it was damaged, or not a first edition Aziraphale bought it anyway. Generally paying too much. (Crowley referred to this as being a sucker) 

This time there was no book, just two men and two women in a rather sterile, obviously rented office who seemed intent on wasting his time. They had just attempted to stall actually showing him the book, talking about such riviting topics as the weather. Until Aziraphale insisted he see the book, and they we're forced to admit that they in fact did not actually possess it. (Someone said something about leaving it their other trousers. A story which Aziraphale highly doubted) 

So mire than a bit irritated to be taken out on a fool's errand, Aziraphale rushed back. He was worried about how Crowley was doing with Annie. Though he wouldn't tell her, Aziraphale had significant doubts about Annie's caretaking abilities. He wouldn't have gone at all if Crowley hadn't said to. Though he rather feared that his Demon was putting on a brave face for his benefit. 

When he returned to the bookshop it was rather worse than he had suspected. Annie was locked in the bathroom bawling, and Crowley was curled up on the sofa playing with his dolls. 

It took Aziraphale a good half an hour to convince Annie to unlock the door and let him in. Aziraphale could make out very little of what she said in between fits of bawling, only the word Crowley, snake, and monster. Aziraphale had a rater sneaking suspicion he knew what had happened. 

Aziraphale sent Crowley upstairs to wait for him in their bedroom. He coaxed Annie out of the bathroom, and she made a mad dash for the telephone. Insisting on calling her daddy. 

Nathaniel arrived in under an hour. He seemed rather confused and more than a little bit suspicious. He collected his little and her horrendously pink luggage, and left. Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief. At least he probably wouldn't be asked to babysit on such short notice (no notice, none whatsoever) again. However he rather feared that he had lost a friendship out out of this whole ordeal. 

He tromped upstairs to deal with his little demon. 

"Really Crowley? I know Annie was a bit... difficult at times, bur did you really need to traumatize the poor thing?"

Crowley crossed his arms and gave a (rather cute) pout. "She was trying to seal one of your books, one of the really old ones!"

"Really Crowley I hardly think a such a young little would have any interest in one of my rare books."

"He father, Norman, or Nate or whatever told her to."

"Nathaniel. And in all the time I've known him Nathaniel has never so much as shown interest in trying to buy a book. Why should he steal one?"

"I don't know! I'm not.... I'm not... Wonder Woman!"

"Reallt, Crowley what you did was very naughty. You're to have some corner time for this!"

Crowley was summarily plopped in the corner, and left there. Crowley treacherous little mind begain to wander, and not to any place pleasant. Aziraphale hadn't belived him. Just like Annie had said. Did that mean all the other things she had said we're true, about Aziraphale wanting a different kind of little? A little who was happy? Small? Just plain not Crowley? 

He could certainly see Aziraphale doing that. Taking care of Crowley with all the love and adoration he could muster because his angel was a self sacrificing idiot like that. There was no reason (at least in the mind of Anthony J. Crowley) that Aziraphale should be stuck taking care of him when it wasn't what he really wanted. 

So Crowley decided to for once in his life (it was actually many many more times than once, but he would never admit it) do the good thing. 

Crowley left. He was decent about it this time. He left a note so Aziraphale wouldn't worry. It read as follows, in Crowley's horrible chicken scratch hand writing. (Crowley's snake eyes we're as ill suited for writing as they were reading) 

Dear Angel, 

Sorry, got to go. Urgent demon business. Don't worry, I'm very big noe and can take care of myself. 

Love,   
Crowley 

Crowley scratched the love out vigorously, and then gathered up his toys and miracled them back to his apartment. L He couldn't stand the thought of Aziraphale's next little playing with the toys that Aziraphale had bought for him. Then Crowley left. 

Crowley imagined Aziraphale would be rather relived to find him gone. He imagined the angel giving a sigh of relief and settling down with a book for a quiet night without a needy little demon clinging to him making him read children's novels when he rather read Wilde (for approximately the four thousandth time) or Socrates or something equally boring. 

Crowley entered his apartment. Had it always been so cold? So barren? He was doing the right thing, he reminded himself, and curled up in the middle of his bed still fully dressed.


	43. Chapter 43

Aziraphale was rather looking forward to a cozy night with just him and Crowley. Annie had been, well, rather difficult, and Aziraphale suspected it was far worse for Crowley. (Annie almost made Aziraphale miss baby Warlock, almost) 

Certainly his demon would need plenty of cuddles and love that Aziraphale would be happy to provide. Aziraphale had even been thinking of getting Crowley a little surprise. He had just the thing in mind he was sure the demon would love. 

He warmed up a nice bottle of milk for Crowley, with honey and a splash of vodka, just like he liked. He collected the next book in the Lenore series and headed out to spring his naughty little demon from the corner, tell him he was forgiven, and have a delightfully quiet evening of cuddles together. 

This was not what happened. Instead of his little demon in the corner, Aziraphale found a sloppily written note. Urgent demon business his left wing! 

Running off, Aziraphale thought, was rather a bit of an overreaction to a few minutes in the corner, in Aziraphale's opinion. But then again maybe Crowley just needed some space, sometime to be big. Sometime away from Aziraphale. 

Well Aziraphale could do that. After all he didn't need to have Crowley with him for every second of every day. He didn't need to have the demon snuggled up next to him while he was reading, a comforting weight in him. He didn't need to hear the darling little noises of satisfaction that Crowley made when he drank a bottle. Or see the sweet little shy faces that Crowley made during a diaper change and tried to hide with his hands until Aziraphale kissed his belly and Crowley would giggle. (Crowley would of course vehemently deny that he had ever giggled in his life) He didn't. 

It was three o'clock in the morning. Aziraphale didn't see any point in sleeping without Crowley, so he had stayed up reading. Though he wasn't having much success, he had current read the same paragraph six times mow and still had no bloody idea what it said. 

He was interrupted from giving it a go for the seventh time by a feeling that something was suddenly and terribly wrong. Aziraphale went to investigate. 

Meanwhile in an setirle cement apartment a demon dreamt of falling. He careened downwards. His wings were on fire, the heart of his corporation beat frantically in its chest. He was terrified. He screamed and shook, he was still falling, falling forever like Alice down the rabbit hole. The he wasn't anymore, the crack of his hitting the ground could be both heard and felt for miles. 

Crowley looked down to find he had wet himself. He wasn't in Hell now like he thought, he was in the bookshop. He looked around for Aziraphale, frantically running through the maze of bookshelves and clutter. There was Aziraphale on the sofa, with Annie in his lap feeding her a bottle. Aziraphale looked up and down at Crowley with a look of utter disgust. "Real Crowley, can't you control yourself?"

Crowley looked down at himself, he was naked, every rib and knobby joint on display. With the exception of a diaper, which was wet, very wet, and as he watched it grew warm again and he could see it overflow and drip down his legs making a puddle on the floor. 

When Crowley looked up again, to apologize, Aziraphale was gone. Annie sat in his place smiling. Flames licked up around her, the bookshop was on fire. The bookshop was on fire! He frantically tried to find his angel. But his angel was nowhere to be seen. Annie's laughter echoed throughout the bookshop as Crowley sank to the floor and sobbed.


	44. Chapter 44

Crowley woke up sobbing. 

"Now there, there dear." 

It was Aziraphale's voice. Crowley launched himself up from the bed and settled on Aziraphale's lap, still trembling and crying in his tearless way. 

Pudgy hands came up to stoke red hair. Crowley melted into his angel a little. He could feel his diaper grow warm, but just like in his dream it was already too wet to hold. Crowley could feel the warmpth run down his legs and bottom to pool in Aziraphale's lap. For once Crowley didn't care about his humiliating lack of bladder control. Keeping hold of his angel and making sure he was safe, and here, and not discorperated was more important. 

Then Crowley was sent careening back onto the bed. Aziraphale stood up and looked down at his now wet lap in absolutely disgust. "You vile little creature!" He told Crowley, but it wasn't with Aziraphale's voice. It was all wrong. This was all wrong.

Crowley tried to freeze the not-Aziraphale in place, but the not-Aziraphale just tilted his head and gave Crowley a funny look. So Crowley did to only other thing he could think to do, he opened his mouth. 

A pillar of hellfire engulfed the not-Aziraphale. He screamed. It was a horrible sound, but after a few minutes it went static-y like a bad radio station. Then it gradually faded away to nothingness, along with the not-Aziraphale. The only thing left if him now was a bit of scorching on Crowley's floor. 

Crowley jumped out of bed, he had to find the real Aziraphale and make certain that he was alright. 

The bookshop wasn't on fire this time. Yet Crowley new, deep down in the marrow of his snakey little bones that something was wrong. He crept around silently, until he heard voices, then he changed into a snake and slithered closer. (Changing into a snake also gave Crowley the added benefit of getting out of his wet diaper and pants, which were now both very cold and very itchy) 

Then someone scooped him up from behind. "Crowley?! Darling boy whatever are you doing here? Are you hurt? Did they frighten you?"

Now this was his Aziraphale. The genuine article. No substitutions accepted. 

"I'm fine angel, why haven't you gotten rid of them yet?"

"They're looking for something specific, I thought I would find out which book it was before I sent them on their way." 

Aziraphale readjust Crowley's lengthy body in his arms. They both fell silent and listened. There was a lot of shuffling and cursing. They didn't seem to understand Aziraphale's system of organization. (No one did, with the exception of Aziraphale himself, and it was done that way very, very purposefully) Then someone mentioned a title. 

Aziraphale tisked. "Well they won't find that in there." Then he carried Crowley over to the sofa and tucked him in to a pile of blankets. "Now listen to me Crowley. You stay here. You hear me? I'll only be a second to take care of this." Aziraphale emphasize his point with a stern tap on Crowley's snoot. 

Aziraphale then went to take care of things. There was some swearing, crashing, and a loud whooshing sound. Crowley was a bit sorry he couldn't see it. Aziraphale almost never got really cross, but when he did it was a sight to behold. 

Crowley snuggled down in the blankets and he heard his angels footfalls retreating from the backroom. 

Aziraphale came back with a bottle of milk. (With honey and vodka) He picked up Crowley and set him on his lap and held the bottle out. Aziraphale had thought that Crowley would turn back into his more humanish form, but instead the snake latched on to the bottle. Aziraphale pulled it away. 

"Crowley dear, can you even nurse as a snake?"

Crowley didn't know. If he had possessed shoulders he would have shrugged them. 

"Are you sure you don't want to turn back darling boy?"

Yes Crowley was sure. He was going to stay a snake. Specifically a snake wrapped around Aziraphale, until he was certain the angel was safe from whatever the hell was currently going on. Instead of actually articulating this, Crowley just made another grab for the bottle and latched on. It took him several tries to get it just right, but he eventually got milk to flow from the nipple and settled down happily in his angel's lap. 

Aziraphale made a "hmm" noise above him as he stroked his scales. "Crowley dear, in the morning I think we need to have a little talk about what's been going on."


	45. Chapter 45

Crowley lightly dozed that night curled protectively around Aziraphale. At some pont Aziraphale had popped a pacifier in his snakey little mouth. It was a bit difficult to suck on as a snake, but the familiar weight was comforting all the same.

Crowley half expected another imposter to show up, maybe disguised as him, and Crowley was ready to deep fry them in hell fire to protect his angel. 

In the morning Aziraphale sat him down on the sofa again, and tried to get him to change back into a form with limbs. 

Crowley refused, he felt more comfortable as a snake at the moment. It gave him some (imagined) distance from the angel's coddling care. 

Aziraphale relented, and begain to talk. "Crowley dear, last night did you leave on your own or did they take you?"

"I left" Crowley said not lookin Aziraphale in the eyes, then proceeded to tell Aziraphale about the imposter in his apartment. (He left out the bit where he had an accident in said imposter's lap while clinging to him after a nightmare) 

"Oh dear, oh dear" Aziraphale clutched the snake closer to him. "Was it one of yours? One of Hell's?"

Crowley shook his head. "No, not one of Hell's."

"Everyone I chased out of here last night trying to get that wretched book you burned was most definitely human. I froze them, gave them a rather stern talking to, and sent them on their way with the idea that they had never heard of that particular book before."

What, thought Crowley, an Aziraphale sort of solution that was. 

Aziraphale continued looking pensive "Nathaniel was among them you know, and those other people who called me about that book the other day. I had thought... Well I had thought Nathaniel was my friend. Apparently he had ulterior motives all the while. Dreadful creature, and dragging little Annie into this whole mess. Oh I am sorry I didn't believe you about her Crowley."

Crowley just gave his sad angel a nuzzle. "It'ssss alright."

"Oh no it isn't! I keep failing you Crowley!" Tears were threatening to fall from blue eyes now. 

"It'ssss alright angel, I know you don't really want to take care of me anyway."

Aziraphale blinked stupidly. "I don't what!? Where on earth did you get an idea like that from?"

Crowley hunkered down a little farther into his own coils.   
"Annie told me you talked to her daddy and told her what kind of little you wanted. And it wassssn't me. It wassssn't anything like me"

Aziraphale took Crowley's face in his hand and gently brought it up to look at his own. Somewhere in Aziraphale's mind something had finally stopped short circuiting and made a connection. 

"Crowley listen to me very carefully darling. Annie was lying. It's you, it's always been you. I know I was frighted before, of your side, of mine, but you have to have known... I've always wanted to be with you. Even before I knew I loved you Crowley.

Even when I thought that our designations weren't compatible, I wanted you around. I loved you. When I found out that you we're a little I was so excited Crowley, so very excited. We might finally, truly be together. 

Caring for you dear boy, is an absolute joy. I have felt happy and peace in a way I have never known before. If it was up to me you would never leave. I live you darling, I love caring for you. I love you as a little, as a snake, as a demon, as everything that you are. "

Aziraphale kissed Crowley's snoot gently. "I love you"

Crowley was suddenly not a snake anymore. He clung to Aziraphale and shook and trembled, letting out the occasional sob. He didn't know how or why, and he certainly didn't deserve it, but Aziraphale loved him. Aziraphale loved him.


	46. Chapter 46

Aziraphale rubbed Crowley's back as the demon's sobs died down. He was flint to miracle up a bottle of milky tea to soothe the little, when a warm dampness in his lap came to his attention. 

This seemed to distress Crowley terribly. Aziraphale didn't understand why a little diaper leak had his demon so distraught, and Crowley was in no real condition to inform Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale looked around for any of Crowley's toys, only to realize that the demon must have taken them when he left. A little miracle and that was fixed, the angel bear was presses into Crowley's hands and a pacifier was pressed into his mouth as Aziraphale carried him upstairs. 

He lay Crowley out on the bed on the changing mat, removing his way pants and diaper only to discover his baby had acquired another nasty diaper rash. Aziraphale kept one hand on Crowley's thin belly and rubbed, while the other trailed over Crowley's diaper area, healing the redened and painful looking skin. 

Crowley was obviously dreadful at caring for himself, and Aziraphale vowed to never let the demon be more than five feet away from him at any time. Ever. He didn't rediaper Crowley, but finished undressing him. Then he wrapped his slender demon up in a plush blanket and carried him in to the bathroom, giving him reassuring little bounces all the while. 

Crowley's face scrunched up in the most adorable look of confusion as Aziraphale went about filling the tub. He had a lovely large claw foot bathtub as though he did not necessarily need to bath (the same way he did not need to eat or sleep) he did enjoy the occasional bubble bath. He thought that Crowley might enjoy one now. 

He deposited his demon in the warm water. He miracled up a little ship to sail around th bathtub and a large toy octopus. It didn't try make Crowley long to make a game of trying to catch the little ship and use to octopus to sink it. Aziraphale was happy to see Crowley being anything other than a limp sobbing mass of little demon. 

He managed to distract Crowley from his game long enough to wash each of his long limbs. He then rubbed shampoo and conditioner into Crowley's hair, which made the demon give happy little moans behind his pacifier as Aziraphale carefully massaged his scalp and rinsed his hair. 

Crowley was then picked up and wrapped in soft warm towel. Aziraphale carried him back to the bed and the changing mat still laid out there. He gave his demon a thorough coating of lotion and powder before fastening a fresh diaper on his little demon. 

Then the angel set about massaging ever inch of Crowley with baby lotion. As with the hair washing, Crowley again begain to let out little moans of pleasure from behind his pacifier. All of the demon's long limbs went limp, and maybe for the first time in his existence Aziraphale saw Crowley truly relaxed. 

Halfway through the massage, Aziraphale noticed Crowley's diaper grow dark. But Crowley didn't seem yo notice at all, his head was thrown back and his face had an expression of bliss on it the angel had never seen before. Aziraphale was exceptionally proud of the fact that it was him that had made Crowley so relaxed, so at peace. 

Crowley didn't react at all when Aziraphale changed his diaper. It could have probably held another wetting, but any risk of developing a rash would not be tolerated under Aziraphale's loving care. He continued the massage. 

When every last exceptionally thin finger and toe had been thoroughly lotioned, Aziraphale dressed Crowley in a pair of black feetie pajamas covered in silver constellations. (Complete with silver snaps running down the crotch and inside of the legs for easy diaper changes) 

Crowley was almost half asleep by the time Aziraphale sat down with him in the rocking chair and fed him a bottle of warm milky tea. The bottle soon dropped from Crowley's mouth and was lovingly replaced with a pacifier. 

Aziraphale just held his baby close for a long time. He listened to his soft breathing and the occasional crinkle of his nappy as he shifted in his sleep. Aziraphale inhaled the babyish smell of the demon and took in the way he had one pale hand clasping tightly the worn fabric of Aziraphale's waistcoat as if he was afraid the angel would disappear if he wasn't held on to. 

Aziraphale would do almost anything to keep Crowley here like this, safe and warm in his arms forever. He pressed a kiss to Crowley's soft hair, and summoned the telephone. He had a call to make.


	47. Chapter 47

Aziraphale hefted a wriggling Crowley a little higher on his hip. Crowley had wanted to get down so they could split up to search for origin of the mysterious (and rather annoying) sound, but Aziraphale had vehemently opposed that idea. What if it was something dangerous? Crowley just rolled his eyes and stopped attempting to escape his angel's hold. 

The tapping had been going on for a good five minutes or so now. It sounded like tapping on glass. But they had checked all the windows both in the apartment and the bookshop and found nothing. They wandered around playing a sort of odd game of warmer/colder, only instead of getting warmer or colder the sound got louder or fainter. Untill they eventually pinpointed in to the bathroom. 

Aziraphale gripped Crowley tighter and pushed open the door. 

There was someone in the mirror. This wouldn't be unusual if that someone was Crowley or Aziraphale, but this person was neither. 

They were exceptionally pale and had short curly black bob and rather unsettlingly pale blue eyes. They were rather obviously a little, judging by the purple pacifier they were currently sucking on. They spit out said pacifier, and looked over Aziraphale and Crowley, then said with the air of someone who had somewhere important to be, "Took you long enough."

They we're then shoved away with a "I wanna see!" by what appeared to be the exact same person. 

The doppelganger looked at Aziraphale then was pushed away by the first one. This resulted in a small brawl about who should get to occupy the small mirror first. 

Crowley snickered behind his own pacifier. He had an idea of what these two were, but apparently rumors of their horrific-ness had been greatly over exaggerated. Finally they were both pulled aside by a new person. This new addition to Aziraphale's bathroom mirror was a rather elegant looking woman with elaboratly braded hair, though here skin was very dark, she also somehow managed to look pale at the same time. 

She shooed the two littles away, with much complaining on their end, then turned to Aziraphale and Crowley. 

"I do apologize about that. The twins are rather mischevious at times."

Aziraphale gave Crowley a look. (Which Crowley did not appreciate in the least) "No bother at all.... Er... Are you the contact Anathema said would call? Because I was expected you do it tomorrow you see.... and by telephone."

The woman smiled. She had far to many teeth, and they were all far too white. "Yes, I'm Helena, pleased to make your acquaintance the Angel Aziraphale, and the Demon Crowley."

"And yours Helena." Aziraphale nodded politely, still a little confused by the whole ordeal. 

"I'm afraid phones tend not to work here very reliably, Angel Aziraphale."

"They scream alot" piped up one of the twins who had stuck their head in the mirror frame behind Helena. She shooed them off. 

Helena took in Aziraphale's still baffled expression "Maybe it would be better if we met in person. Someone will be by to escort you here tomorrow." 

The mirror then abruptly went back to showing only Aziraphale and Crowley's reflections once more. 

"Well that was peculiar."

Crowley nodded into Aziraphale's neck. "They're mirror wraiths. They're supposed to be peculiar."

"Mirror wraiths? Surely those are just human ghost stories?"

"They aren't ghosts. They're a reflection."

Aziraphale wrinkled his brow. "A reflection, of what?"

Crowley wriggled closer to Aziraphale, he was tired of standing in the bathroom (or technically being held by Aziraphale, who was the one doing the standing in the bathroom) and he felt quite ready for a bottle and a nap. 

"Of humanity"

Aziraphale gave a thoughtful hum. Then took Crowley back downstairs where he did in fact receive his bottle (with vanilla this time) and his nap. 

It wasn't untill bedtime that the subject came up again. Crowley had had a diaper change and was placed in his feetie pajamas, fed a nightime bottle by his adoring angel, then tucked into bed with a paci, his blankets, and all of his toys and dolls. Crowley had his ear against Aziraphale's chest listening to the angel's steady heart beat. 

"Did god make them?"

Crowley gave a sleepy "hmm?"

"The errr... Mirror Wraiths, did God make them?"

Crowley shifted more of his long body onto his plush angel. "Mmm... No, not as far as I can tell. They were just sort of a by-product of everything god did make. It's like.... It's like when you have crack in the wall you don't ever pay much mind to untill one day you look in and there's all sorts of mold and fungus growing there."

"Ah," Aziraphale said and Crowley yawned. Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hair and gently placed his paci back in his mouth. He stared down at the sleeping demon, watching the pacifier bob softly up and down with the demon's sucking. Whatever was going on. Whatever happened, Aziraphale knew only that he would do everything in his power not to loose this. Not to loose Crowley.


	48. Chapter 48

Aziraphale was worrying. This was not altogether unusual. Aziraphale was always worring about something, Crowley, Heaven, people trying to buy his books, giving away his flaming sword, Crowley, which restaurant had the best crepes, the apocalypse, Crowley, did he mention Crowley? 

But today Aziraphale was worring more than usual. He had never been to the weird little no man's land that lurked behind mirrors before. Certainly he had known it had existed, the way he had known there was a space between his dresser and the wall. He had seldom thought of it however and always expected that it would be empty as it should be. 

Aziraphale took special care in getting Crowley ready that morning. He reveled in caring for the demon. Tenderly bathing him, and combing out his red. hair. (Crowley enjoyed this very, very much, and evertime Aziraphale stopped he whined and nudged the angel's hand) He carefully packed the demon's diaper bag. Checking several times to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Would Crowley need a bottle? How many diapers would he need? (this was all of course irrelevant as Aziraphale could simply miracle up whatever he didn't have) He finally deemed the bag acceptable and proceeded to give Crowley another lotion massage, then diapered and dressed him. 

Crowley had wanted to be, or at least pretend to be, big when they went. This sent Aziraphale into a small panic, and Crowley relented very quickly. Aziraphale did make sure to dress Crowley so his diaper didn't show. It made the demon feel better. Aziraphale was rather proud of the grey leggings, black sweater covered sparkling silver stars and planets, and black combat boots. As Crowley lit up when he saw the sweater and spent several minutes examining himself in the mirror, turning back and forth making the celestial bodies sparkle and shimmer in the bathroom light. 

Crowley was not worried. He had met a few mirror wraiths before, and besides one or two that went around getting their jollys out of doing nothing more than scaring the piss (sometimes literally) out of whatever stupid human decided to call on them. (Such mirror wraiths include but are not limited to, Bloody Mary and the Midnight Man) They mostly seemed content to stay in their own little pockets of reality, doing, well, whatever mirror wraiths did in their spare time. They seemed in Crowley's opinion to be a rather okay lot, less murderous than humans, entirely un concerned with good and evil, and they certainly had less paperwork than heaven or hell. And if worst came to worst, Crowley could just obliterate them all with Hellfire. 

Aziraphale did not approve of this plan. It seemss nothing Crowley said or could say would lessen the Angel's worries, so Crowley just let Aziraphale fuss over him and hold him close. 

Aziraphale was rocking back and fourth feeding Crowley his fifth bottle this morning. (There had been a higher amount of wet diapers and subsiquent diaper changes as well) When the mirror wraiths came. They rang the bell this time. 

There were two men, or at least they looked man shaped. One was tall and thin, taller even than Crowley. He was pale and had brown stringy hair and the most abhorrent fashion taste that Crowley had ever seen. He was wearing a shirt obviously from the ninteen seventies so horrificly patterned that it made Crowley's eyes ache a little to look at. It was paired with high waisted grey checked suit pants Crowley recognized as having been in fashion sometimes during the 1800s. This atrocious assemble was topped off with knee high black boots. 

His companion was only slightly better at dressing himself. He was average height, bald, and dark skinned. He was attired in the sort of dull black suit you would expect to see the average mortician in. It was offset by a lurid pink, and very, very frilly dress shirt. 

They were both a bit faded and blurry around the edges. Looking at them gave one the same feeling as looking at a very old photograph. 

They introduces themselves as Jack and Gregor,( Jack being the taller one) and gestured to a waiting car, which was just as old as Crowley's Bentley. 

Aziraphale fussed over getting Crowley into his coat. Then decided the addition of a hat and scarf was completely and utterly necessary. He retrieved the leather satchel that served as Crowley's diaper bag and carried Crowley out to the waiting car. 

They parked at the entrance of what looked to be a abandoned mansion. Thery were lead inside and discovered that it was in fact very abandoned. Broken windows, peeling wallpaper, cobwebs everywhere. It was spooky. And even though Crowley had previously stated that he liked spooky, he clung to Aziraphale a little tighter. 

They were lead down a long hallway untill they all stood in front of a large floor length mirror. Gregor then took a gentle but firm hold of Aziraphale and Jack did the same for Crowley and they stepped through.


	49. Chapter 49

They were standing in the same mansion, only now the hallway was facing the other way and at the end of it stood the twins from earlier. 

They moved towards the group in unison. "Come play with us Crowley, come play with us forever and ever."

If you asked Crowley about the whole affair he would not say that he gave rather high pitched yelp, wet his diaper and cowered into Aziraphale's neck. That however is precisely what he did. 

The twins begain to laugh. "Isn't that funny?" one of them said. "We saw it on the television" said the other. "But seriously, do you wanna play?" Asked the first one. 

Aziraphale scolded them "you've frightened him." (Aziraphale did not add that he had been frightened as well) 

"I wasn't frightened" Came Crowley's rather small voice, his face still half pressed against Aziraphale's shoulder. 

Aziraphale ignored him. "He won't want to play with you if you frighten him."

"We're sorry!" "We won't frighten you again!" "Yea, you can frighten other people with us instead!" 

The twins were shooed off by Jack, with a promise that maybe Crowley could play with them once everyone was done talking. 

They we're lead to a sitting room where Helena was seated regally on a fainting sofa attired in layers of mismatched fabrics and dripping with necklaces and bracelets. 

Aziraphale sat on the sofa across from her and situated Crowley across his lap. Gregor sat next to Helena and Jack sprawled over a chair. 

Crowley half listened nestled into his soft angel as Helena explained how sometimes things found their way into this odd little bettwen places realm they resided in. One such thing was a book. And that book was taken by another mirror wraith (who was now a bit of ash on Crowley's floor) who had been convinced and/or significantly bribed by an organization of magic users (not true magic users like Anethema, but a sort of pale imitation who tried really, really hard to be what Anethema was) to take the book to earth and give it to them. 

Helena didn't exactly know why the book had been given to Aziraphale. Though she speculated that they did not know of Aziraphale's angel nature, and expected the book to be let loose upon the world via his bookshop. Unfortunately they had chosen the only bookshop that went out of it's way not to sell book. Also the only one run by an angel and housing a demon. 

After hearing of how Crowley and Aziraphale respectively disposed of each of their intruders Helena didn't think there would be further trouble. Though one could never be certain. Trouble of some description after all seemed to always find it's way to you eventually. 

Helena and the other mirror wraiths that resided in this particular location expressed a wish to form a truce or a friend ship with the angelic and demonic duo, as they had with Anethema. She also called Crowley a precious little darling, which Crowley ignored with a alight huff. Aziraphale however puffed up with pride and agreed stroking Crowley cheek softly, which almost but not quite, made up for being called precious. 

By this time the twins had snuck, or more accurately tromped loudly, into the room. One of them had curled up on Helena's lap and the other had spread themselves all over Jack in a tangle of limbs. Now the had perked up again, sensing an end to the serious bits of the conversation.

"Can Crowley come play with us? " "pleeeeease?" "We never get to play with other littles?" "Please? " 

Aziraphale was hesitant to let Crowley out of his sight and Helena seemed to sense this. "Might it be alright if they stayed here in the parlor with us?"

Aziraphale relented and set Crowley down. The twins bolted over two him and each held out a hand. Crowley was hesitant. All of his previous experiences with other littles had been less than pleasant. In fact they had been most decidedly unpleasant. At the very least Crowley didn't think these littles would tease him for his diaper wearing, as they both had rather obvious diaper buldges in their clothes themselves. He looked over his should at Aziraphale, who smiled encouragingly. Then he reached out and took their hands.


	50. Chapter 50

They led him over to a corner of the room filled with blankets, pillows, toys, and what had to be the largest most ornate dollhouse Crowley had ever seen. They plopped down in the mess of blankets and pillow and Crowley did the same, sucking on his pacifier nervously. 

The twins introduced themselves as Edgar and Ellen. Crowley wasn't sure which one was which neither of them particularly looked more like an Edgar or an Ellen than the other. And were dressed identically in high collared floral shirts, purple shortalls with snap crotches, and stripped socks, with no shoes. They also had purple pacifiers attached to clips hanging off their shirts. 

The twins didn't seem to care to delay playing anymore, so they went straight into a game of dolls in the big doll house. Crowley was rather unsure what to do, but they pulled him over and let him have his pick of the dolls to play with. 

Unlike with Annie they listened to Crowley's ideas for the game, and often thought he had good one. After a while Crowley relaxed and begain to enjoy the game. He was rather surprised when the lights of the dollhouse begain to flicker and all of the little doors and windows opened and shut with ferocity. The twins simply explained that "it just did that sometimes" and he had to be careful not to get his fingers caught in a door. Then they continued playing as if it wasn't happening at all. Crowley just shrugged and followed suit. 

After they got bored of their doll house game, they all laid in the mess of blankets and pillows and asked each other questions about what they liked and didn't like. Crowley found, rather surprisingly that they had a fair amount in common. He was half asleep when Aziraphale scooped him up. One of the mirror wraiths directed them to a bathroom with a changing table where they could have a bit of privacy to change Crowley. 

"Well," Aziraphale said as he was powdering a freshly cleaned Crowley, "that went much better than expected. They really aren't bad at all"

Crowley mumbled a "told you so" from behind his pacifier. 

"Well better safe than sorry, as I always say."(this was a lie, this was infact the first time Aziraphale had ever said it) Aziraphale gently taped up Crowley's diaper and lovingly ran his fingers around the edges of the legs to make sure the leak guards were in place. "And how did you find the twins"

"They were alright" Crowley sniffed. 

"Well you seemed to be having fun. And they seemed to like you very much."

Crowley peered up at Aziraphale, rather suspicious that anyone would like him. Aziraphale just smiled down at him. "They've asked us back you know. Tea for us, and a play date with the twins for you. I won't say yes if you don't want me to Crowley. I won't ever put you through anything like with what happened with Annie ever again you know."

Crowley thought for a minute as Aziraphale pulled his leggings back up. "You can say yes"

Truthfully Crowley really didn't mind the twins when they weren't recreating bits of the Shining. They hadn't called him any names yet, and they when they played Crowley had forgotten for a little while how terribly ashamed he was of being a little and had had fun with the twins. Aziraphale smiled down at him again and hoisted Crowley on his hip. 

They went back out where Aziraphale sat down and was handed a cup of tea. He then miracled up a bottle for Crowley and shifted the demon so he was lying across his shoulder. The twins were also being fed bottles in Helena's and Gregor's laps respectively. 

Crowley's eyes began to get rather heavy, and the bottle was taken from his mouth and replaced with his pacifier. He was then carried and placed gently down on the pile of blankets, a twin was placed on each side, and they were all tucked in. Crowley felt Aziraphale kiss his brow than his unicorn being slid into his grasp and he clutched it to his chest. On either side of him Edgar and Ellen cuddled closer, and linked their hands together over his chest. Warm and drowsy, Crowley fell asleep to the sound of the twins gentle breathing.


	51. Chapter 51

He woke up to the twins gentle whispers. They we're absolutely delighted he was awake, and pounced on him like.... Like... Cats... Yes, cats, those are things that pounce, aren't they? 

They all had a bit of a wrestling match, which ended when both twins pinned Crowley down a begain to vigorously tickle him. They had lifted up his sweater and were mercilessly tickling his ribs and thin stomach. Crowley was howling with laughter and wriggling ferociously. He hadn't noticed that his leggings had slipped down on his spindly legs exposing his diaper. He did however notice his diaper growing warm and the twins ceasing their onslaught to sit back on their heels and stare at him. 

Crowley froze and a feeling of deep and pervasive dread creeped up his spine. He looked over to Aziraphale in the far side of the large room, but neither he nor the rest of the mirror wraiths were paying them any attention. There would be no help from that quarter for the demon. 

One of the twins leaned forward to get a better look at his diaper and exclaimed "that is so neat"

Crowley did not in fact see what was so neat about his body's disgusting habit of betraying him in the most embarrassing and intimate of ways. (Usually at the most inconvenient of times as well) He was expecting some sort of humiliation, a chanting of 'diaper baby' he probably deserved. Because that was what he was wasn't it? A disgusting little baby who couldn't control himself and needed diapers and someone to change him. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. 

But the jeers never came. Just a soft and reverent whisper of "You made the stars disappear" Then a pouting "Our diapers don't do that."

Crowley opened his eyes find the twins both unsnapping then shucking off their shortalls. They were both indeed wearing diapers too, but unlike Crowley they seemed completely and utterly unashamed of that fact. Also unlike Crowley their diapers we're cloth, covered with pink nursery pink plastic pants, and Crowley could see they were also very wet. 

They stood up, and extended a hand each out to Crowley. The utter synchronization with which they moved was a little unsettling to the demon, but he placed his unicorn under his arm and he took their hands anyway. "Where are we going?" he asked, pulling his leggings back up over his sagging diaper. 

The twins gave him an odd look in perfect unison. "We're wet, we want a diaper change. " "Don't you want one too?" "And to ask if we can get neat diapers like yours. " "And we want sippys, we're thirsty" "Are you thirsty?"

They didn't wait for Crowley's answer, they just pulled Crowley after them. Crowley most definitely did not want to ask Aziraphale for a sippy cup or a diaper change. Crowley couldn't bring himself to ask such a humiliating and babyish thing in front of everyone. 

The twins plopped themselves into the laps of Helena and Grego, still in just their shirts, diapers, and socks, and begain to beg for 'neat diapers where the stars disappeared when you wet them like Crowley had.'

Crowley just blushed and half ran into Aziraphale's arms, so he could hide his face in the angel's neck. Aziraphale thought it was absolutely adorable that the twins wanted diapers like Crowley had, and offered them some from Crowley's diaper bag. (The bag held much, much more than it should have been physically capable of holding. It's current contents included two packs of diapers, baby wipes, a large bottle of baby power, baby lotion, and baby oil, two bottles, two sippy cups, two pacifiers, all of Crowley's dolls and plushies, several blankets, the changing mat, several assorted snacks, a heating pad and three books) The twins we're delighted. Jack gathered supplies, and Helena laid out a changing mat. Then they proceeded to change the twins in the middle of the floor. 

Crowley looked away, he shuddered at the thought of having his diaper changed in front of everyone.Aziraphale placed him on his hip and they went to the bathroom again for Crowley's change.

Seeing the vast differences in the twins and Crowley's behavior gave Aziraphale an odd feeling somewhere in the region of his stomach. The angel only hoped with time, reassurance, and love that Crowley would one day be as free and unashamed of himself as the twins were. 

He gave Crowley's thin tummy several kisses when he was done with the diaper change, making the demon squirm and giggle. 

He pulled Crowley's leggings back up over his diaper and hoisted him in his hip again. He miracled up a sippy of juice for the demon, and carried him back out to the parlor. 

The twins proudly showed Crowley their new diapers, and had seemed to decide that they we're going to give up pants altogether. 

Aziraphale said that it had been lovely, but they probably should be going. The twins accosted Crowley. Who was set down so that they could give him a goodbye hug and a kiss to each cheek and make him promise to come back again and play because they were friends now. 

That last bit made Crowley feel all warm and peculiar inside. He had had few friends before (none, not a one) save Aziraphale. He waved shyly to the twins as Aziraphale carried him down the hallway, until Gregor and Jack escorted them through the mirror and he could no longer see his new friends waving back.


	52. Chapter 52

Crowley's wings ached and itched. His back ached. The pain and itching thrummed up his spine and made his head throb. It had been building up for a while now but Crowley had been able to ignore it untill now. 

He knew of course what it was, as it happened (most inconveniently) every year. He was molting. Molting shouldn't actually be this painful. Usually it was slightly itchy and uncomfortable at worst. Then you found another feathery friend to groom your wings for you, or of you were in a pinch, you undertook the daunting task yourself. Then you were fine and dandy and the whole thing was over just like that. But this of course, with Crowley being Crowley (stubborn, self loathing, sulking and a little bit stupid) was not the way he choose to go about it. 

Instead Crowley did what he always did when presented with a problem. He ignored it, and hoped it would go away. Usually it did. However it also usually came back worse the next year. 

It wasn't that demons in general didn't form friendships and groom each other, they did. (It should be noted that demon friendships usually involved alot of swearing at one another and the mural causing of chaos, making them very difficult to distinguish from demon rivalry) It was just that Crowley didn't make friends. He'd never been good at it. Even in the scant fragments of memory he retained from heaven he'd always been alone. He knew humans sure, but that was always in passing. the only friendship he'd every really had was with Aziraphale, and that took the dogged persistence of six thousand years to obtain. Crowley certainly wasn't going to make Aziraphale groom the disgusting mess his wings we're after several thousand years of complete and utter neglect. And Crowley had no intention of ever letting the twins see his wings let alone grrom them. (Crowley also thought they wouldn't be particularly good at it, they were always so over enthusiastic about everything and a bit rough) 

So Crowley was just going to grit his teeth an bear it. Like he always did. It might be a teeny bit more difficult now since he had a fussy angel hovering over him ever moment of every day. (Not that he was complaining mind you, just the opposite) Crowley would just have to be very careful not to let Aziraphale see what a mess he had made of himself. 

It was, like many things easier said than done. It was hard to get comfortable in any position, even his favorite spot curled up on Aziraphale's plush tummy, he couldn't stay in for long. He had lost what little appetite he had. He ate dutifuly, so as not to alert Aziraphale to something being wrong, but every bite tasted like ash in his mouth. 

Diaper changes were horrific. While Crowley never considered them exactly pleasant (though he did thoroughly enjoy the attention his angel lavish on him) he now dreaded every one. It was so hard to lay with his aching back on the changing mat while Aziraphale moved his legs to get his diapers off and on. Every little jostle sent a jolt of electric pain up his spine that reverberated up his phantom wings. 

Crowley really, really, wanted to cry. But it was only, he told himself placatingly, a few more days. A few more days and it would be fine. He would be fine. He was just being a big baby about the whole thing. No need to cry or bother Aziraphale. He would be fine. Just tickety-boo.


	53. Chapter 53

Something was terribly wrong with Crowley and Aziraphale was beside himself (not literally) with worry. Crowley was acting very peculiarly. He wasn't playing with his dolls, or castle, or soft toys. He was avoiding diaper changes like the plague. When Aziraphale did manage to herd the demon to the bedroom for one, as soon as he laid down on the change mat, Crowley went all stiff and begain wincing. Aziraphale had thought that the regular feedings we're giving Crowley an appetite, but now Crowley chewed his meals with such a robotic lack of enjoyment it was almost painful for the food loving angel to witness.

The demon even seemed disinterested in his bottles, which worried Aziraphale terribly. He had tried all the demons favorites, milky tea, forumla with a hint of vanilla, milk with honey and vodka. Nothing seemed to spark Crowley's interest. 

Maybe the worst thing of all of this was that Crowley no longer cuddled with him. That is to say, yes Crowley would curl up with the angel, but he was forever wiggling and grimacing and shifting positions like he wanted to be anywhere else. Though it pained him. Aziraphale finally just laid Crowley out on the sofa where he rolled on his belly and splayed out all of thin limbs, pressing his face into the cushions so Aziraphale could no longer see his lovely eyes. Aziraphale sat in chair and stared forlornly at his little demon, hating every inch of distance between them, and hating even more the growing distance between them that had nothing to do with physical space. 

The last time Crowley had acted like this he had left. Aziraphale was terrified that he would leave again. He had the sudden and horrifying realization that this must be how Crowley felt. Always afraid that the one he loved above all else would just willingly get up and walk away from him one day. 

Crowley must be the stronger of the two then, because Aziraphale couldn't stand it. The terrible, sickening worry. If Crowley would only tell him what was wrong maybe Aziraphale could fix it. 

Of course Crowley being Crowley, he just said "I'm fine angel." Which was a dreadfully obvious lie. Crowley was a dreadful liar. But Aziraphale was too frightened that pushing Crowley would push him away further. 

He tucked the squirming demon into bed with him and tucked a stray curl being his ear. 

For a long time both angel and demon laid away and suffered quietly. Together, yet still very, very alone.


	54. Chapter 54

Crowley's wings were on fire. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. He could hear the crying of his fellow fallen angels around him. They comforted one another as they mourned the loss of heaven. Of the only comfort and security they had ever known. No one came to comfort him. 

He tried to cry but no tears came. He just fell helplessly to the ground in a great heap of pain and smoldering feathers. He felt so small. He had always felt small, but never quire so small and helpless as he did at this very moment. 

He turned his face upwards to the heavens that had once been his home. Perched above him looking down at him with pure malice was all the angels who had not fallen, Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, Raziel, Haniel, Cassiel. And there, there was Aziraphale amongst them. He was not looking at him with contempt like the others, only with pity. Which was somehow much, much worse. 

Then they all started laughing and jeering at him, so loudly that Crowley could hear it from the heavens. He looked down at himself to see what they we're laughing about. For a moment he didn't understand. Then he saw it. An even darker stain spreading across his dark robes, leaving a horrible burning trail of warmpth down his legs before pooling on the ground around him. 

Crowley woke up to the sensation of wetting his diaper. (if his biology had been just a little more human he would have been in a cold sweat) He could feel some of the liquid escaping the diaper and no doubt soiling both his pajamas and the bed. 

This had happened for the past several nights. Though it had had always been discovered in the morning by Aziraphale while Crowley was still asleep. Aziraphale was starting to talk about about taking precautions and Crowley had absolutely no idea what that meant. Crowley was already in diapers. What more could there possibly be to control his rampant bedwetting. Crowley desperately hoped that Aziraphale didn't mean sleeping in separate beds. Crowley was certain that Aziraphale must be dreadfully tired of being peed on by now. But Crowley rather selfishly couldn't stand the thought of not being able to sleep with his angel. 

Tonight there was a simple solution however, Crowley could just miracle everything, the bed, the blankets, his pajamas, his diaper, dry again. Crowley prepared himself, annnnddd... He couldn't do it. The pain was too much, he felt too sick. Unlike most things that affected his physical form, the state of his wings was linked heavily to his coporeal form, and it was leecing heavily off his occult power. In simple terms, it meant that Crowley was too sick to muster up the energy to miracle away his disgusting mess. 

He closed his eyes. If he could only lessen the pain a little. Just have a bit of a reprive, he was sure he'd be fine. Crowley carefully extracted himself from bed and slunk to the bathroom. His wet diaper and pajamas chafed uncomfortably against his legs, but Crowley barley noticed. His wings and back hurt so much. His heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest. He was almost certain that he was going to discorperate. 

He made it to the bathroom his mouth dry and his hands shaking. He turned the faucet on cold, and cupped his hand under it, spitting out his pacifier and greedily slurping up the water in his palms. He stood there for a long time drinking handfull after handfull. He would have vastly preferred a sippy cup, as he was shaking quite badly and slopping a great deal of it down the front of his pajamas. He drank untill his belly was full, and sloshing a bit unpleasantly. 

Then Crowley gingerly lowered himself to the middle of the cold tile floor.He grimaced as his diaper squished unpleasantly. He stuck his paci back in his mouth and sucked fervently. Then he leaned forwards and let his wings spread out in a huge, black, feathery, mass.

Crowley couldn't take it anymore and begain to cy in earnest. Sobs wracking his thin frame. He brought both trembling hands up to cover his mouth so that he wouldn't wake up his angel with his needy sobs.

Crowley felt very small, and very alone. He was hurting so much and it wasn't getting better. What little strength he possesed left him, and Crowley collapsed into a miserable, sobbing heap on the linoleum.


	55. Chapter 55

Aziraphale awoke to his greatest fears being recognized. Crowley was gone. 

There was a rather large wet patch on the bed where Crowley's diaper had obviously leaked. This had become a growing problem lately, in the day as well as at night, no matter how many times Aziraphale checked or changed his demon, he seemed to inevitably end up with leaky diaper. It distressed Crowley terribly to wake up to wet pajamas, or to soil his clothes, or the sofa, or leave puddles on the floor when he was wearing protection in the first place. Aziraphale was contemplating using thicker diapers and maybe plastic pants as well on the demon. After all, all this leaking couldn't be comfortable for the poor dear. But Crowley was so unreasonably sensitive about his diaper use.(which as Aziraphale kept reminding Crowley was perfectly normal and natural for a little of his age and nothing to be ashamed of) Aziraphale feared a fit if he tried. 

Crowley had mercifuly not run off far this time. Aziraphale could hear noises coming from the bathroom, though he had no idea what the demon could be up to in there. He highly doubted that Crowley had suddenly gained enough bladder control to make it to the toilet, and was just going for a wee. 

Hr pushed open the unlocked bathroom door, and the sight that greated him broke his heart. (Metaphorically, his corporation's blood was still in prefect working order, pumping blood like it should, but there was an unpleasant tightness in his chest and a pit forming in his stomach) "Oh Crowley" he breath. 

Aziraphale had seen Crowley's wings only twice befor. Once in the garden, and once during the apocalypse. Both time Aziraphale had hardly paid them any mind, but he was pretty sure they hadn't looked this dreadful before. (Had they?) They we're patchy and scraggly, unshed feathers caught in with attached ones. All dull, sad looking black, lacking the proper sheen and luster that wings should have. Aziraphale could see bits that were obviously inflamed, and he hated to think how swollen and sore his oil glands must be. 

Poor darling, when was the last time anyone had groomed him!? The last time he had groomed himself? No wonder the poor dear had been so out of sorts lately. 

Aziraphale bent down and very gently picked up his sobbing demon. "He mummmered a sad little " 'ziraphale? 'M fine" but Aziraphale just shushed him, and placed him gently in the bathtub, which had suddenly and via miracle grown large enough to accommodate Crowley stretched out wings. 

Aziraphale miracled Crowley's soiled pajamas away. Then he miracled, a clean extra thick diaper and a pair of plastic pants (clear, so Crowley could still see the planet and stars on his diaper) on the demon. He thought Crowley might be a bit out of it to notice the extra and much needed padding and plastic between his legs. 

Aziraphale got the spray nozzle ( another new addition to the bathtub) and set it to a gentle, yet warm temperature. Then the angel set to work. He wet all of Crowley's wings down, which made the poor thing cry harder, but needed to be done. Aziraphale miracled up his angel teddy for Crowley to hold. It was the only thing Aziraphale could think to do, as the demon was already vigorously sucking a pacifier. 

Then Aziraphale ran his fingers through the dark wings, working loose any un-attached feathers. He mummered soft reassurances to the demon. He told him what a darling boy he was, and how much Azriphale loved him. And oh, how brave he was being, because Aziraphale knew this must hurt terribly. Aziraphale also told the demon how sorry he was that he had to cause him pain. How sorry he was that he hadn't figured it out sooner. How sorry he was that this wasn't something he could just miricale away. 

By the time the last loose feather had fallen, Aziraphale was crying in earnest. Silently, because he couldn't bear to upset Crowley further. He wiped his tears away with a damp hand. He must pull himself together for Crowley who was hurting now. 

Aziraphale warmed upt the water a little more and begain to gently work to get the little caps off the new feathers that had grown through. Aziraphale was horrified to find that even the new growth looked pale and sickly. 

He moved on to Crowley's oil glands. They spurted oil with the lightest touch of Aziraphale's hand. He begain massaging the oil into Crowley's wings, paying special attention to the sore bits. Aziraphale noticed a few small bumps and realized that Crowley had ingrown feathers that were most likely infected. 

Aziraphale prepared himself for what he would have to do. He miracled up some disinfectant, and wiped down each bump carefully the he squeezed. Crowley writhed in pain under him, crying and howling. Aziraphale comforted him, whispering 'sorry' over and over again into his hair. He then informed Crowley that he would have to be brave, and stay very still while Aziraphale did this. 

Crowley just shook his head and said so quietly that Aziraphale almost didn't catch it "no Papa"

Aziraphale heart swelled with love and broke all the the same instance. He had been waiting with baited breath for Crowley to give him a name. A name that Crowley had picked out just for him. But said like this, said so heartbreakingly with his little crying and in pain. Aziraphale knew he would have to deny Crowley's plea. His eyes filled with tears once more. "I'm sorry darling" Aziraphale kissed Crowley's brow and returned to unpleasant task. 

By the time Aziraphale had extracted the last ingrown feather, Crowley was slumped forward in the tub limp. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. Aziraphale gave him one last rub down with wing oil which hopefully would help begiin the healing.

He then gently picked up his demon and carried him to the bed. 

He miracled away the mess from Crowley's diaper leak. Then miracled a fresh, thicker diaper and clean plastic pants onto the demon. He didn't want any more diaper leaks interfering with his baby's rest and healing.

He positioned Crowley on to his belly and pulled up the covers, making sure he has all his stuffed friends with him. Aziraphale then healed pillow on either side of the demon and gently spread his wings out and splayed them over the pillows. 

He wished he could hold his little, but it would currently be uncomfortable for both of them. Instead Aziraphale sat on a chair by the bed and prepared to watch over Crowley for however long he slept, be that a night or a century. Aziraphale would be there for him.


	56. Chapter 56

Crowley slept for three days. Aziraphale never left his side. He read mostly, looking up ilfrom his book often to see if Crowley needed the covers s pulled back up, or his wings rearranged, or a diaper change. Aziraphale oiled his wings every day. The red bits were slowly becoming less swollen and red. They no longer felt hot to the touch. Crowley was getting better. He would be alright in the end. 

Crowley woke up to a sore back and even more sore wings. But the intense burning pain was gone. Then Aziraphale was there, stoking his hair, telling him how glad he was that he was awake now. Asking if Crowley wanted anything. 

Crowley's mind felt slow and hazy. He wanted Aziraphale, so he wriggled over on his belly to climb into the angel's lap. Aziraphale gently held him, being very careful of his wings. His wings. His ugly malformed wings we're still out. He gave them a shake in preparation of putting them back where they belonged. (Where Crowley actually belived they belonged was the deepest pits of Hell or a landfill somewhere, but as he couldn't just cut them off the inbetween space where he usually kept them tucked away from sight would have to do) 

"Crowley NO!"

Crowley looked at Aziraphale startled. 

"They need to be left out while their healing."

"No." 

"Crowley dear, I really must insist"

"Their ugly"

Aziraphale looked a little startled. He had never thought of any bit of Crowley as ugly. Even the bit of him that had made the M25 into the horrid disaster it currently was. He put a chubby finger under his littles chin and pulled a tactic that had never failed him when dealing with the demon yet, "Darling please, for me? "

Crowley gave a reluctant nod. Of course he would for Aziraphale, there was little he wouldn't do for the angel. If Aziraphale wanted his grotesque wings out, he'd leave his grotesque wings out. Even if having them out made him feel ugly and exposed. 

The demon burrowed his face into Aziraphale's neck. He smacked his lips together. "Bottle?"

Aziraphale smiled. "Of course dear boy."

"Vanilla?"

"Of course"

Crowley had his bottle while Aziraphale used his free hand to stroke his hair. Then instead of curling up together with a book or a bit of television (which Aziraphale had gotten just for him) Crowley was carried back to the bed an laid out on his tummy. 

Crowley wriggled, his diaper was barely wet at all. And besides how would Aziraphale change his diaper while he was laying on his tummy anyway. Maybe they were going to have a nap? But Aziraphale didn't seem to be getting into bed with him. Crowley was rather frightened that Aziraphale was going to leave him alone in the bad and go back downstairs, like he had not to long ago when he was under nefarious bookish influences. 

Instead Aziraphale came up behind him on the bed and touched his left oil gland. Crowley jumped. Aziraphale placed a hand on his back, and starting working the oil into Crowley's wing. Aziraphale was grooming him. Touching his foul wings. Crowley was sick with guilt. It was so wrong. Aziraphale shouldn't be tainting his purity by touching Crowley's foul and hell blacked wings. 

Crowley, as Crowley always did chose the rational and logical response to the situation. (Sarcasm, this is sarcasm) Crowley pitched a fit. 

He writhed and cried and thrashed. He tried, rather unsuccessfuly, to wriggle himelf out of Aziraphale's hold. 

Aziraphale was taken aback. He was taken very far aback. "Crowley darling, does it hurt that badly?"

Between his sobs and flails, Crowley managed to get out "no angel. Don't want you to touch"

Aziraphale frowned. "Really Crowley, I have to, they must be groomed you know." 

The eloquent response he got back was "no"

"Crowley listen here darling, I need to do this, so you must hold still. I'm sorry you don't like your wings touched, but you did this to yourself."

Crowley lost it, not that he ever had much of it in the first place. "SorrysorrysorryI'msosorryangelpapapleasedon'tI'msorrysorrysorry"

Aziraphale carefully gathered up the bawling demon in his arms. He strokes his face, from the snake tattoo at his temple to his cheek in a soothing motion. "Now what's all this dear boy? You have To tell me darling I don't understand."

"You can't touch my wings they're dirty"

Aziraphale was going to tell Crowley that he'd just washed and groomed them, but then it occurred to him that Crowley meant 'dirty' in metaphorical rather than a literal sense. 

"Darling, your wings are part of you." Here Crowley shuttered "I love them. I love you. Not one bit of you is ugly or dirty. You trust me don't you? " Aziraphale received a vigorous nod yes. "Then trust me when I tell you this. I love to care for you my darling baby boy. Grooming your wings is no different from feeding you, or changing your diaper,or dressing you, or having a cuddle. I want to do it. I love to do it." He kissed Crowley's brow. "Now will you let me?"

Crowley didn't looks terribly convinced, but gave a hesitant nod yes anyway. 

Aziraphale made sure Crowley had every comfort this time. His plushies, a pacifier, blankets pulled up to his lower back. This was, Aziraphale realized something like wetting and diaper changes for Crowley. A part of himself he had neglected so severely out of shame. Aziraphale would just have to be loving and persistent, and one day Crowley might finally learn that it was alright. It was all alright. Aziraphale loved him, even when ( and this was pretty much always) Crowley did not love himself.


	57. Chapter 57

Aziraphale knew that he and Crowley needed to talk. However he was hesitant to start. Crowley had been a bit fragile lately. He was still recovering and a bit sore. He tensed up and hid his face every time that Aziraphale groomed oil into his wings. Aziraphale worried that presenting such a difficult topic as this (the topic was difficult only to Crowley to most everyone else it was rather simple) would cause his demon more unneeded stress. But it had to be done. 

He did it while Crowley was relaxed in his lap, nursing a warm bottle, stuffed snake clutched in his arms. "Darling I want you to listen"

Crowley turned his half lidded eyes up towards the angel and gave a hmm. 

"Next time you don't feel well I want you to tell me."

Crowley stiffened. Aziraphale continued. 

"I need you to be honest with me darling. You really did worry me, and you don't want to worry me do you? I won't ever be cross with you for telling me that you don't feel well. And I don't want you to worry that you're putting me out." He petted Crowley's curls back from his face. 

Crowley released the bottle from his mouth with a pop. "But I am, I'm being trouble." Crowley murmered looking away from Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale just petted his hair patiently. "No darling, being troublesome is painting on the walls, or poisoning the bread we feed the ducks with. Being ill is just something that happens. Even if it's from something you did darling, I need you to tell me. Can you promise me that?"

Crowley gave a very reluctant nod. Aziraphale gave him his very best smile in return. "I'm so proud of you darling!"

He nudged the bottle against Crowley's lips and the demon latched on. He kept on a steady stream of nonsense chatter untill Crowley drifted off to sleep.

The demon had been asleep for only a little while when there was a familiar tapping that echoed through the bookshop. He adjusted positions so the sleeping little demon was on his hip and went to the bathroom. 

Helena was in the mirror, her face softened when she spied Crowley asleep (and slightly drooling) on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Hello Helena"

"Hello angel Aziraphale. I wished to speak to you."

"Oh.. Nothing's happened has it? I mean nothing with Nathaniel and his group of.. Of.. Delinquents? Oh dear it's not another dreadful thing that's come from your world is it? Er... Not to say that you're world is dreadful dear, I didn't meant that at all just.. "

Helena raised a slim brown hand to stop Aziraphale's impressive word vomiting. She gave a small smile. "No angel Aziraphale, nothing like that. Only the twins wish to have their new friend over for a play date."She gave a raised eyebrow to someone or something that Aziraphale couldn't see. "They're being rather persistent about the whole matter. maybe tomorrow?"

"Oh well then, Crowley hasn't been well."

"Nothing serious I hope?" Helena gave a rather soppy look at Crowley as he snuffled into the angels neck.

"Oh no, just a bit of trouble with his wings." Aziraphale gently pushed a curl from Crowley's sleeping face. "But I will have to ask him if he feels up to it."

Helena was suddenly being rather squished between two over exuberant twins. "are those Crowley's wings?" "Neat!" "We'll take really good care of Crowley when we play with him!" "Yea, we won't break him, or play rough games or anything." "And we'll nap with him whenever he wants to!"

Aziraphale smiled "I'll be sure to tell him that. 

Helena shooed the twins away, and informed him that to get in contact with her all he had to do was tap on the mirror and say her name three times while spinning in counterclockwise circles in a darkened room. (It should be noted that the spinning and the dark were not strictly nessecary, Helena just thought that it added ambiance.) She then disappeared, and Aziraphale took Crowley back the the sofa. 

Aziraphale laid out on his back and arranged Crowley over him, so that his wings draped off the sofa. It wasn't long before large yellow eyes begain to open. 

"Well there you are dear boy. Have a nice nap, hmmmm?"

Crowley gave a nod. 

"Helena called while you were sleeping. Do you feel up to a play date with the twins tomorrow? The wished for you to know that they would take very good care of you"

Crowley sneered. "I don't need taking care of angel" ( these were awfully big words from someone who had just today had his diaper changed, his clothes put on by his angel. As well as had his breakfast, dinner, and a bottle fed to him by said angel. And who would in the very near future be receiving another diaper change.) 

Aziraphale, rather amused just smiled and asked "So you don't wasn't to play with the twins then? Pity and they seemed so excited. "

Crowley gave a huff. "I didn't say that angel"

Aziraphale smiled a bit wider, and gave his pouting little demon a peck on the cheek. "Well it's settled then, you'll have a nice playdate with the twins tomorrow."


	58. Chapter 58

Crowley was content. Dare he say it, almost happy? His wings had almost completely healed. Aziraphale was smiling and plying him with tons of affection, which Crowley soaked up the way he soaked up warm sunlight when he was a snake. 

He spread out bonelessly on the bed sucking on his pacifier as Aziraphale rubbed baby lotion into his skin while humming something happy and a bit off key. (It was really very off key, but blinded by love, Crowley hardly noticed) 

Crowley was in such a good mood in fact that his fussing was extremely minimal (for Crowley) when Aziraphale pulled plastic pants (just a precaution dear, Aziraphale informed him) up over his thicker diaper.(Aziraphale had though that he had been a sneaky angel, and that Crowley hadn't noticed the switch to bulkier protection, but Crowley had. Crowley however hadn't said anything out of the deep seated shame that he not only needed diapers, but the thickes babyish kind they sold) And he almost didn't complain at all when Aziraphale dressed him in a black long sleeve onsie and red and black tartan trousers with snaps up the legs. Crowley fussed equaly over the trousers being tartan and them having babyish snaps. (Though he would never tell Aziraphale this, Crowley did think that these tartan trousers, and only these did actually look kind of stylish) 

Crowley brought along Lenore and Annabelle. He kind of wanted to show off his dolls to the twins. He was reasonably sure that the wouldn't make fun of him. Aziraphale gathered up Crowley and Crowley's diaper bag and they left with Jack and Gregor who had not cultivated any better fashion sense in the time since the angel and demon had last seen them. Jack was wearing an abhorrently lime green furry sweater, that Crowley thought it looked rather like he had skinned a muppet to make.

But while Jack may have the worst fashion sense Crowley had ever laid his aching eyes upon, he also snuck him sour candies (the kind that Aziraphale never had because he hated anything tart) on the ride there. 

Gregor had just patted him on the head, and smiled and called him cute, of all nauseating things, when Crowley hissed at him. Crowley wasn't cute, he was terrifying. (Only Crowley actually held this opinion.) 

As soon as they steeped through the mirror they we're accosted by the twins. Crowley was set down, and found himself squashed between Edgar and Ellen in a bone crunching hug as the twins babbles at him from being their pacifiers. Aziraphale patted them on their curly heads and reminded them of their promise to be gentle to the demon. Crowley glared at Aziraphale. He didn't need to be treated gently. (Though he was secretly glad that the twins we're no longer holding him quite so tightly. While he didn't actually need to breathe, he rather liked having the option.) 

The twins let go, and bounced around him. "Angel Aziraphale said you were sick" "so we made you a present""a get well present" "we made it all by ourselves!"

A very badly wrapped, and rather lumpy package was thrust into the demon's hands. Crowley stared down at it for a while in confusion. Edgar and Ellen had made something for him? Crowley had rarely received any gifts in his six thousand years, and the vast majority if them had been given to him recently by Aziraphale. But this thing he was holding was obviously for him, as the twins were now bouncing up and down and chanting "Open it! Open it!" Crowley gave a confused little scrunch of his brow, and ripped open the package. 

It was a blanket. Made of irregularly sized scraps of material that looked like they had been scraps dug up from the bottom of someone's sewing basket. They were all held together with the sloppiest, wonkiest stitching Crowley had ever seen. (Aziraphale would end up performing a minor miracle to ensure that it never fell apart) As he looked closer he saw that every bit of material was something he might have chosen for himself. Blacks, reds, and grays, dark fabrics with stars or vines trailing across them. There was even a bit of pink fabric with little red cartoon devils on it. As well as a bits of fabric covered in cute little snakes with their red forked touges stuck adorably out. Around the edges it had differently sized textured ribbons in blacks, reds, and greys. 

Crowley started to shake. The twins looked a little concerned. Crowley let out an odd strangled sounding noise. The twins looked very concerned. 

They turned to Aziraphale, since Crowley didn't seem to be in any condition to answer them. "Is he alright?" "Does he not like it?" "Is he dying?" 

Aziraphale gave a small smile to the twins, "it's how he cries darlings"

"Happy crying right?"

"Yes, dears, I think it's very happy crying"

Crowley's brain managed to start working enough to let out a rather strangled sounding "thank you" to the twins as he clutched the blankie close. 

The twins looked relived, then pounced on the demon, squishing him between them in another (slightly gentler) hug, declaring "you're welcome" in perfect unison. 

Yea, Crowley thought, he was almost happy.


	59. Chapter 59

Crowley carried his dolls in one arm, as one of the twins dragged him along by his other arm. The other twin bounced along happily in front of them. The mirror wraiths dimension seemed to be just one very long hallway full of different doors. It was dark and oppressive, Crowley thought the word was gloomy, but the twins seemed delighted to show Crowley. They pointed at different doors and tried to explain to him what was behind them. Some we're normal, like that one is Gregor's room. Some were a bit more unusual, like one goes to the other hallway. Some we're just downright strange, like we don't know what's in that one, but it screams alot. 

The twins door was purple with a little sign that read Edgar and Ellen's nursery. Under the sign was tacked a dismembered doll head. 

The twins nursery was chaotic and smelt strongly of baby lotion and dried flowers with just a hint of pee. They had a large, dark, old fashioned (and rather cozy looking) looking crib stuffed with soft toys and blankets, and changing table overflowing with diapers, plastic pants, lotions, and powders. There was as well as a dresser and bookshelf. Clothes, blankets pillows, books and toys were spread haphazardly in piles all across the floor. But what drew Crowley's attention was the shelves and shelves of dolls. They all looked old, paint chipping, porcelain cracked, eyes clouded over, missing limbs or heads. Crowley thought that they were all completely terrifying. But Edgar and Ellen we're so happy to introduce Crowley, Lenore, and Annabelle to each and every creepy monstrosity, so Crowley didn't have the heart to tell the twins how much they gave him the heebie jeebies. 

The twins then suggested they make a blanket fort, and started gathering blankets from their floor and crib. Crowley just stood there awkwardly. He didn't know how to make a blanket fort, but he didn't want to tell the twins this and look like a big dumb baby on front of his new friends. But one of the twins handed him the corner of a pink fluffy blanket and told him to drape it over the changing table. 

The blanket fort was impressive, if Crowley did say so himself. It covered most of the twin's nursery, and had different rooms inside it sectioned off with blanket walls.(this was Crowley's idea, which the twins thought was absolutely great) they had even made a sort of second story out of the crib. 

They had brought in Crowley's dolls and some of the twins, and were currently on a great mystery adventure that involved ghosts and secret passages. When their adventure had ended the twins decided they were thirsty and wanted sippy cups of juice and in need of a diaper change. (This last one was rather obvious as the twins weren't wearing pants again and their diapers were sagging in their plastic pants.) 

They each grabbed one of Crowley's thin pale hands and dragged him back to the parlor where Aziraphale and the other mirror wraiths were sitting, having tea and talking. (no doubt about unspeakably boring things) The twins just bounced in and loudly stated that they needed a diaper change and sippy cups. Crowley blushed, and was unspeakably glad that no one asked if he needed a diaper change. (he did, rather badly) Aziraphale just picked him up and excused them to go to the bathroom so Crowley could be changed in privacy, while the twins were changed on the parlor floor. 

When Aziraphale asked while he pouring baby power onto Crowley during his diaper change if he was having fun, he rather suprised himself when he could honestly answer that yes he was. After the diaper changing was done, the three littles were sent off with full sippy cups and dry diapers to go play again. 

The twins and Crowley we're all laying piled together in their blanket fort, debating on what they were going to play next. The twins then shared the sort of look that only twins could share, and turned together in prefect synch towards Crowley and asked in one voive. "Have you ever played knock knock?"

"Er.. No" Crowley admitted hoping it wouldn't make him look dumb or babish that he didn't know "what's knock knock? "


	60. Chapter 60

Crowley still had no idea what knock knock was, ans he was playing it. Or at least he thought he was playing it. Currently he and the twins were just going from room to room knocking twice on every wall. Crowley was beginning to think that this was maybe the most boring game in existence. (On par with watching grass grow and paint dry) When there was a knock back. 

It was faint but there it was two knocks somewhere off in the distance. Edgar and Ellen looked excitedly at one another. There then grabbed Crowley's hands and dashed into another room, and knocked twice there. Again there was two knocks in response. The twins grinned manically. Two more knocks sounded before they even reached the next room. The twins didn't knock this time. They turned to Crowley. "We all split up now. Don't knock anymore. You just have to keep moving. You can hide if you see it, but you have to keep moving from room to room. Most importantly don't let it catch you!"

The twins then stood on tip toes to kiss each of Crowley's cheeks, then they each ran off in a different direction. Crowley stared after them questions like 'what am I not supposed to let catch me' and 'what do I do if it catches me' bouncing around in Crowley's head. 

Crowley wandered through rooms that seemed to get creepier and creepier. He definitely wasn't frightened, he was a demon. He had walked the halls of Hell. (not for very long mind you, he had wriggled his way into Earth duty as soon as he possibly could) He had seen wars, revolution, destruction. He had stopped the apocalypse. Well, he had been there when the apocalypse had been stopped. So it totally didn't frighten him that he had absolutely no idea what sort of creatures lurked in this between dimension. Crowley definitely didn't feel like crying. He also most definitely didn't want his angel to scoop him up in his soft arms and give him a cuddle. 

There was a knock, then another, closer to Crowley then they had been before. Crowley sped up. Behind the next door he oppened, he found a room full of what looked to be abandoned furniture with dust covers. The knocking sounded again, even closer. Crowley ducked under a table and hid, obscured by the dust cover. He pulled his legs up to his chest and popped his pacifier into his mouth and sucked nervously. 

There was more knocking. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. He hoped that whatever it was would leave him alone and go after one of the twins. It was their stupid game after all. 

The knocking came even louder this time. Why was it so dark in here? The knocking was very loud now. Crowley could hear his heart attempting to beat it's way out of his corporation's chest. He lifted the dust cover and peeped out of his hiding place. There was nothing, it was fine after all. Crowley gave a sigh of relief. It was only a game, he was being a big baby after all. Then, an unreasonably tall figure seemingly made out of pure darkness floated across the room and disappeared into the wall. Crowley droped the dust cover and scooted back under the table, he decided he wasn't being such a baby after all, and his panic was absolutely warranted. 

Crowley remembered, maybe a bit belatedly, what the twins had said about not staying in one place too long. This suited Crowley just fine, he was going to leave his hiding spot and run straight into Aziraphale's warm and safe embrace. He would miracle himself there, but he wasn't sure exactly where there was, and if you didn't have a decent idea of where you were miracling yourself you ran the rush of ending up stuck in a wall, or the floor, or an inconveniently placed tree. 

Crowley took a deep breath, then poked his head out. No creepy shadow people in sight, he made a mad dash for the door. 

Crowley made it too the hall and raced down it, looking for any doors that were familiar. But there were none. Was this even the same hallway? The twins had said something about a second hallway. 

Crowly tried another door, hoping it would lead him to back to the hallway he was semi familiar with, but it just lead into a room full of dusty taxidermy animals. Crowley closed that door quickly and tried, and other, and another. The knocking was getting louder and more frequent. What ever it was it was coming for him. 

Was Crowley going to be stuck here trying to outrun some sort creepy specter forever. What would it do when it caught him? Discorperate him? Possess him then use his body to hurt Aziraphale? Take him to an even more nightmarish realm? Make him watch the Sound of Music on repeat forever? 

The knocking was right behind him now. Crowley couldn't bring himself to look behind. He was running now. He made a mad dash for a random door. Holding true to Crowley's luck, which was consistently bad, it was locked. He frantically jerked at the door handle. Let him in, let him in, let him in, why wouldn't it let him in? Why didn't things do as they were expected to do here? 

There was an odd groaning sound. Crowley turned around, and pushed his back flush with the door. The floor of the hallway was disappearing. Breaking off to reveal a swirling void of nothingness. Then through the nothingness a giant eye appeared. But Crowley's attention was soon taken away from that particular horror to the black thing floating menacingly towards him. 

The air grew colder as it got closer, it had a shadowy grotesquely deformed face and long thin claw like hands that stretched towards the demon. Crowley cowared, he slid down the wall till he landed on his diapered bottom with a wet squish. 

The fingers grazed his cheek, and a deep rasping voice whispered "I've got you." 

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and he felt his already soaked diaper warm as the contents of his bladder emptied into the padding. He could feel himself trembling and his heart was beating so fast Crowley was absolutely sure he was going to discorperate. He didn't even get to say goodbye to his angel. Crowley let out a strangled whimper.


	61. Chapter 61

Crowley heard the twins laughter, but he didn't look up from the ball he had tightly curled himself in. He was sure that they we're laughing at him. Or he was discorperate and this was hell, and it wasn't the twins at all but some demons having a laugh seeing how far the mighy Crowley had fallen.(it should be noted that no one in hell had ever actually thought of Crowley as 'mighty') 

"Crowley?" "Crowley" "Are you alright?" "What's wrong?" "What happened?"

Crowley opened one eye to look at the twins, and managed to stumble through an incredibly shaky explanation of what had happened. 

The twins gave each other a look. ".... ummm.... " ".... uhhhh... " "that's.... " "that's what's supposed to happen " "its fun? " "Well we think it's fun" "we didn't know you wouldn't" "We made sure it was a nice one that would chase you" " we wouldn't let a mean one chase you"

Crowley glared up at the twins "How could being chased by that horrible grotesque creature be fun?"

The twins gave each other another look. "That's.... That's what we look like" "You think we're horrible?"

"You look like that?"

The twins weren't looking at him anymore. "Yea.. Sometimes." "Helena n' Gregor n' Jack n' us just like being solid so we can stay here and do stuff." "Some of us just like to drift around"

Oh... Crowley understood now. What he had seen was the true form of a wraith. Just like a giant snake was his, or a great big mess of wings and eyes was Aziraphale's. (And most angels, some were also worringly enough perpetually on fire in their true forms. Crowley had no idea what that was about) Crowley also realized something else. He had just called his best (only, besides Aziraphale) friends horrible grotesque creatures which was what one might call a teeny bit of a faux pas. Even if he was still cross with the twins for making him play their nightmare inducing version of hide and go seek. 

"I don't really think your horrible" Crowley sniffed "And I wasn't that scared. I was just a bit startled because you didn't tell me what was going to happen. Also because the floor fell away, and there was a giant eye. Why the bloody hell was there a giant eye!"

The twins still looked rather sullen and a bit sad, but at least they we're looking at Crowley and nit at the ground now. "It's just an illusion." "We can all do it." "But you can do it best when you're not so solid" "it's just part of the game." "We didn't know you would be scared! Honest we didn't! " " we didn't know you we're.... Scared of... Us." 

Crowley didn't know what to say. The twins were weird and often frightening, but they didn't mean to be. They frightened Crowley the way he frighted humans when he was a snake, by simply exiting and being strange and foreign and potentially dangerous. 

One of the twins turned to look intensely at the demon. Then the other life's up their pale gaze to join their sibling's, their eyes damp with tears "We promised Aziraphale we'd take good care of you, and we did bad. " "really, really bad" "and now your scared of us. Do you... Do you not want to be our friend anymore?"

Crowley was still very shaken. (for a demon Crowley had always been a bit of a coward, though he would describe it as sensibly precautious) "No," he said and the twins looked ready to begin crying in earnest now. "Erm... No, I mean I don't want to not be friends anymore.... I mean.. I do want to be friends... I mean... Oh bugger... Can we just go back to the blanket fort?"

The twins pounced on him. Hugging him tightly and Crowley was almost certain wiping their snotty noses all over his clothes. They babbled about how 'they would be much better friends now' and 'they wouldn't scare him anymore because they'd ask him before doing anything whether it was scary or not' 

They pulled Crowley up and each grabbed one of his hands to happily lead him back through the maze of hallways and rooms back to the safety of their blanket fort. And if Crowley realized that his diaper was a bit more soiled than it was usually was, well a quick miracle took care of it and absolutely no one need ever know exactly how frighted he really was.


	62. Chapter 62

The twins seemed absolutely determined to make things up to Crowley. He got the best spot in the blanket fort, which was the crib. The twins piled up bankets, soft toys, and cushions around him. One of the twins turned on the mobile, and little plush deer and stars begain to dance to a twinkling music box melody. 

One of the twins (Edgar? Ellen? Crowley was never quite sure) lifted a tiger in the universal symbol of 'wait here, I've got an idea' The twin then wiggled their way out of the crib, crawled through the rest of the blanket fort and ran out the door. 

Crowley had no idea what the twin was up to, but he was happily sunggled up with the other one for a nice little nap. He watched the mobile dance above him. He rather liked it. Maybe he could ask Aziraphale for one of his own. One with stars and planets, maybe playing a music box version of the Devil's Trill Sonata. Crowley gave a frown. Aziraphale had got him an awful lot of things lately, his dolls, his plushies, his toys, his blankets, his pacifiers, lots of little clothes, not to mention the small fortune the angel must spend on diapers since he often insisted on doing things the 'proper human way' and buying them. Crowley really couldn't ask him for anything else. He didn't want his angel thinking he was greedy. He brought his blanking to his face to press it to his cheek. 

But he was wasn't he? He was a dreadfully greedy little demon. Greedy for Aziraphale's love and attention mostly. He couldn't help himself thought. After six thousand years of loving and spoiling and saving his angel, it was so very nice to have his angel love him for once. Not of course, that Crowley deserved it. He didn't deserve love, his creator had drilled that particular lesson into his head very early on in his existence. 

All of Crowley's memories of heaven were fragmented. Crowley ofen thought the fall must have broken his mind a little. Or maybe God just thought that he didn't deserve his memories, the way he didn't deserve the name that God had given him when he was created. 

Even in heaven Crowley had been alone. Sent off in the void to make the stars. So small in that immense darkness. He had little place in heaven when he returned. It wasn't untill Adam and Eve's children had children and they started recogning the differences between baselines, littles, and caregivers that Crowley had truly realized what he was. The other humans taught the littles to be ashamed of their crying, messes, and unending need for affection, but Crowley had always been ashamed. 

"Why?" He had asked God. Why make me like this. One question in an unending sting of them. And everyone knew how that had ended, with one unpleasant free fall into rivers of hellfire and unending agony. 

Another angel was given his name. One who wasn't so little and useless. One who didn't ask questions. 

Crowley snuggled into the twin. He wished he could be mire like they were. They had no idea they were supposed to be ashamed of their littleness. To them it was just how they were. It was neither right nor wrong, shameful or admirable, it just was.

Crowley had just closed his eyes and was drifting off to sleep with his unhappy thoughts when he heard the second twin return. 

They wriggled themselves in the crib and maneuvered so that a pillow was on their lap and Crowley's head on that pillow. He felt a familiar teat be placed at his lips. Oh G.. Sa.. Someone No! Crowley wasn't about to let anyone who wasn't Aziraphale do something so degrading as feed him a bottle. He clamped his lips shut. 

The twin stroked his red curls. "Crowley don't you want your bottle? I thought... I thought it would make you feel better. Are you..... Are you still angry with us?"

Crowley felt a bit bad. They didn't understand why Crowley both lived and hated this all at the same time. They didn't understand why he fought it so hard while dying to give in. Crowley made a quiet decision and oppened his mouth. Here things weren't really real anyway he thought giving a bottle a suck. (Aziraphale must have made it as it was thick and creamy and heavily vanilla flavored, just the way he liked it) Here there was no shame.


	63. Chapter 63

Crowley woke up in a tangle of limbs, his own and the many that seemed to belong to the twins. They enthusiastically bounced up, fussing over Crowley asking if he slept well and if he needed a diaper change. Crowley nodded, because he couldn't yet bring himself to say it out loud. 

Crowley and the twins walked hand in hand down the hallway. Crowley definitely didn't keep a close eye on the floor just in case it decided to start falling away again. He also most definitely wasn't completely frightened by giant, slightly manivolant eyes that may or may not be staring at him from that sark void. Crowley knew it had just been an illusion, something that had been made up for the amusement of his strange friend, that did not however make Crowley any less frightened of it. It was bad enough he knew that God was always watching him be a complete and utter failure. He didn't need random giant eyes to start doing it as well. 

In the parlor there was Aziraphale waiting for Crowley with a smile and open arms. Crowley happily climbed into his angel's lap. One of the twins handed Aziraphale the empty bottle Crowley had been fed earlier. Crowley blushed a little, but Aziraphale seemed pleased and patted the twin on the head and told them what a good friend they were to Crowley. The twin then scuttled off to bother one of the other mirror wraiths. Aziraphale lifted Crowley, and Crowley knew without needing to ask that they were going to the bathroom for a diaper change. 

Aziraphale hummed during the change, tickling Crowley's thin belly and telling him what a delightful little sit down he was having with the mirror wraiths. Did Crowley know they had a library? Why some of the books in there Aziraphale had never even heard of before! And the mirror wraiths had been so kind as to let Aziraphale borrow some. He thought about attempting to buy some books from them, but he really wasn't certain what they used as currency. They didn't think much of money. Their sofa cushions, said Aziraphale, was just stuffed with it. Apparently it just kept showing up there. 

He asked if Crowley would be ready to leave in a while. (To an almoat immortal being such as Aziraphale 'a while' could just as easily mean a few minutes as it could a few years) Crowley wanted both to go home and stay and play with his friends. But he didn't want to make a fuss (Specifically he didn't want to make a fuss for Aziraphale, who looked after the undeserving little demon so well. Crowley wasn't opposed to making fusses in general) so Crowley simply nodded 'yes'. 

They were all given fresh sippy cups of juice and kisses and sent off to play again. They retuned to the blanket fort. The twins begain to think very hard about what they could play next. One sprung up suddenly and scurried out of the fort. 

They returned with a large basket of supplies which was plopped down in front of Crowley. "We can fingerpaint!... Errr... Crowley fingerpainting is scary is it? "

With a teeny bit of a glare glaringly glared at the twin Crowley informed them that no, he didn't find fingerpainting particularly frightening, thank you very much. The twins laid down paper for catching messes in the blanket fort then set out three large peices of paper for painting on. The poured paints into little cups and then tied long plastic bibs around their necks. They tied one around Crowley's as well. It was not his favorite fashion statement. 

The twins begain painting right away, little flecks of paint flying everywhere. Crowley just stared had his blank white sheet of paper. He thought very long and very hard about what to pain, then he stoped thinking and painted what came naturally to him. 

Later when Aziraphale and Crowley had arrived home, Crowley would shyly present Aziraphale with his painting. Aziraphale would be a bit in awe. Of course he would love anything his little made for him. But this was actually good. It was a beautiful and fairly accurate, if his astronomy books were to be belived rendition of a galaxy. A rainbow of colors swirled together in the darkness interspersed with shimmering white stars. (the twins had had glitter) Aziraphale shed a bit of a tear as he miracled up a frame and hung it proudly on the wall of his sitting room and library (all rooms in Aziraphale's flat were part library) as Crowley blushed. (The demon hadn't meant for Aziraphale to make such a fuss about it, it wasn't even goooood) Aziraphale pulled Crowley towards him in an embrace and leaned up to kiss his cheek and give a quiet thank you to his darling. 

While Aziraphale was changing Crowley into his nighttime diapers, Aziraphale asked the question Crowley dreaded. What was that miracle he had felt him preforming at the mirror wraiths'? Crowley being the lying liar he was told Aziraphale that it was just meant to get a toy from one of the top shelves in the twin's room. Crowley relaxed a big satisfied with his lie and that he really was a very good liar. Aziraphale would never find out the shameful and disgusting thing that he had done. Even more shameful and disgusting than the things he usual did. And that, thought Crowley was really something considering he was currently lying on a changing mat getting his soaked diaper changed to a new even thicker night diaper (Crowly hated his night diapers, the made his usual slight diaper waddle much more pronounced so that his profound lack of bladder control would be obvious to anyone who looked at him.) because he would without question be helplessly wetting himself while he slept tonight. Ever since his little, tiny, the tiniest, accident Crowley had been feeling evwn smaller and more disgusting than usual. Crowly rubbed his blanky over his cheeks, nose, and the sensitive bit just under his nose and above his lip. He was determined his angel would never know the gross thing he had done. 

Aziraphale looked suspiciously down at his dearest little demon. For someone who had made a rather successful career out of lying to hell, Crowley was an absolutely terrible liar. He had no idea how Hell hadn't caught on ages ago. He was a little (quite a bit) worried about what his baby felt the need to hid from him. He rather hoped that would someday be at a point where the demon felt comfortable to come to Aziraphale with anything he wanted or needed and know that the angel would love him and care for him no matter what his troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just noticed it's been an entire month since I started writing this nonsense.


	64. Chapter 64

There was something about Crowley's fingerpainting that was bothering him. It wasn't anything to do with the painting itself, which was absolutely lovely. But that it triggered some niggling little part of Aziraphale's brain that told him he had seen it somewhere before. 

He had certainly never seen it in person. He was far from a high enough level angel to have anything to do with the stars. It had been mundane duties in heaven, then guarding the eastern gate, untill he was sent to do Earth duty. (Bit of a punishment really for the whole fiasco at the garden) So Aziraphale thought that he must have seen it, or something like it in one of his astronomy books. 

He'd just had his dinner, and fed Crowley his. So he placed Crowley on a nest of blankets on the floor witha sippy cup and his toys and the television remote (really what would humans think of next) to play or watch Golden Girls or whatever Crowley did when by himself. 

Aziraphale then went to peruse his collecton of astronomy books. It wasn't to long before Aziraphale found it:

Messier 83 or M83, also known as the Southern Pinwheel Galaxy and NGC 5236, is a barred spiral galaxy approximately 15 million light-years away in the constellation Hydra. Nicolas Louis de Lacaille discovered M83 on February 23, 1752 at the Cape of Good Hope

As Aziraphale stared at the glossy accompaning photograph a realization begain to dawn on him. He took the book and hurried himself over to where he had hung Crowley's fingerpainting. He held up the book so that the photography and the painting we're side by side. Crowley had not painted simply a good likeness of the galaxy but an exact replica of it. Aziraphale was dumbfounded. 

He took the book with him and sat on the sofa, lifting Crowley from his nest of blankets to his lap. Crowley looked a bit irritated to have his playing so abruptly ceaced, but turned to the angel with inquiring eyes. 

"Crowley darling" he held up the book with it open to the aforementioned page. "Do you recognize this?"

Crowley nodded, letting his pacifier fall and drop to his lap "that's the galaxy I painted for you" Crowley squinted his snakey little eyes at the text on the page. "They named it? That's a dumb name. When I made it I just called it that pretty pinkish one with all the swirly purple bits."

Aziraphale blinked rather dumbly. "You made it. You couldn't have! The archangel Rafael made the stars. That would make you the archangel Rafael."

Crowley nodded, a little unhappy frown forming on his face. "That used to be my name"

"But there is an archangel Rafael now. The one with the staff and the healing and you can't be him!"

Crowley gave his angel a little glare. "I'm not now am I? I just used to be the Archangel Rafael, I was sent to make the stars, then I was called back to heaven and stared asking all sorts of nasty little questions, then boom. Down the bad angel laundry shoot and God was giving some one else... Someone better, my name"

"Oh Crowley" 

"Don't look at me like that angel" Crowley crossed his arms and looked away grumpily. "I don't want your pity." The demon pouted. 

"Crowley dear boy, it's not pity. I just... Am so sorry that something so dreadful happened to you" Aziraphale had stringently avoided questioning the ineffable decisions of the allmighty all of his existence. But it was very difficult to keep it up when faced with such balant cruelty as this. To send Crowley, no it would have been Raphel then, off alone to the stars, then to exile him for asking questions, well that wasn't even the worst part was it. The allmighty had just replaced him after he fell. Took his name and gave it to a new angel. Aziraphale had lived his whole existence believing that there was only one archangel Rafael. He imagined most if not all the rest of the angels did as well. It was almost as if Crowley had never existed at all in heaven. His only legacy as an angel the stars that were attributed to another Rafael. 

"Same thing angel." Crowley was worring his blankie between his fingers and was sucking on some to it's little ribbon tags. The conversation was obviously distressing his baby, but there was one burning question that Aziraphale must have the answer to. "Crowley" he begain...


	65. Chapter 65

"Crowley" he begain, "We're you always little?"

Crowley nodded and looked sullen "Always"

"And you were sent out alone to make the stars?"

Crowley nodded again. 

"And when you came back to heaven, did you have a caregiver?"

Crowley looked a bit confused. "Of course not angel, there weren't any in heaven. Your the only other celestial being I've ever met who wasn't a baseline."

"Crowley, there were caregivers in heaven, quite a few in fact. There were other angels who were little as well. There we're more caregivers than littles. Littles were highly prized. It wasn't uncommon to have two or three caregivers to a little."

Crowley looked as though Aziraphale had slapped him. Aziraphale eyes were feeling a bit teary by now. He brought out a tartan handkerchief to dab at them. 

"You knew what you were? I mean you knew what littles and caregivers were and that you we're one? Way back in heaven?"

"Yes of course Crowley... You... You didn't?"

"No!" Crowley said he pressed himself as close to they angel as he could get and still be two separate entities. "I only found out from watching the humans! I thought I was just weak and useless." Crowley looked back up at Aziraphale with the saddest yellow eyes. "If there were caregivers in heaven why didn't I have one? Why didn't anyone want me?"

Aziraphale could feel his hear breaking as the demon collapsed into sobs on his chest. He knew your heart breaking was a metaphor, but Aziraphale felt a real pain throbbing somewhere deep in his chest. He didn't know what to tell Crowley. He didn't know why the archangel Rafael, one of the most powerful archangels, closest to and most beloved by God would be allowes to be so small and so, so unloved and un looked after. There had been a surplus of caregivers in heaven. Surely at least some of the higher up angels in their numbers had know of Rafael being a little, and such a small one at that. Why hadn't they competed for the place as his caregiver the way they had for ever other little in heaven? Why had no one even bothered to inform Crowley that he was a little? Aziraphale didn't know. He didn't know. 

He just held Crowley tighter as he shook and sobbed, and told him how much he was loved now. How much Aziraphale loved him. How he was a darling boy, and a joy to look after. Aziraphale told Crowley that he was the best possible little Aziraphale could ever have asked foe and if the other caregivers in heaven couldn't see how wonderful he was then that was their monumental loss. 

He kissed Crowley's fiery curls. He could feel the tears slip from his eyes and fall onto his baby's head. It was a long while before Aziraphale and Crowley both calmed down enough for Aziraphale to gather up Crowley for his nighttime botttle and diaper change. (Aziraphale found it best to impliment the bottle before the diaper change as Crowley would, without fail, always wet when being fed his bottle) He tucked him into bed carefully making sure Crowley had his pacifier and blankey his plushies and dolls. The he slipped into bed besides his little love. 

Crowley snuggled into him and rather tired out from his crying fit, he fell right to sleep. Aziraphale stayed awake for a long time and just watched Crowley. Crowley was so much more damaged than Aziraphale had ever thought possible. How had he functioned for so long in the face of such utter neglect? It was no wonder he was so reluctant to be little. Six thousand years, and not a scrap of affection to be had. Aziraphale willed himself not to cry as he stared at Crowley's pacifier bobbing up and down with the demon's rhythmic sucking. 

Aziraphale hoped the memories wouldn't give Crowley nightmares. He wished he could just give him pleasant dreams the way he could humans, but the allmighty had robbed Crowley of even that. For maybe the first time in his creation Aziraphale was really and truly mad at his creator. Sure he had seen the horrors and injustices of the world, but they had always felt like distant certainties. All suffering for a greater good. Or so Aziraphale had been told. But to see the one he loved suffering like this. What purpose did it server. What purpose could it possibly serve to create a being who needed so much love and attention and to give them none? Then when they asked why, to toss them from the only home they had ever known into eternal suffering. 

Crowley who was better by far than most of the angels that remained in heaven. Crowley who loved so much. Aziraphale may not be able to feel it, but he knew it. By Crowley actions, by his expressions, and words Aziraphale knew without a shadow of a doubt that Crowley loved. That Crowley loved him. It had been in every dinner, every walk, ever time he saved Aziraphale or Aziraphale's books, or miracled away a spot on his jacket. Aziraphale had always known Crowley had loved him, though fear kept them (him) from ever acknowledging that obvious fact. 

He kissed Crowley's brow. By Go... Er... Well Someone, Aziraphale would show Crowley that he was loved too.


	66. Chapter 66

Aziraphale was being suspiciously nice to Crowley. Aziraphale was of course always nice to Crowley. He always had been even when Crowley had just been a strange demon that had slithered up to him on a garden wall thousands of years ago. Crowley didn't know if it was because he was an angel full of love and goodness, and all that rot, or because he was a caretaker, or more likely both. 

Crowley had never deserved Aziraphale's kindness. If there was one thing that the demon had learned early on in his existence, it was that he was unworthy. Unworthy of having someone to love him. Unworthy to ask questions or even stand before his creator. Unworthy of heaven. He had even proved himself unworthy as a demon, which was quite a feat. All this however didn't stop Crowley from, greedy thing that he was, wanting Aziraphale's affections. 

For some bizarre reason Aziraphale seemed willing to indulge his wretched demon. Crowley devoured every iota of love his Angel gave him. But now his angel was being too kind, too gentle with him, and it made Crowley suspicious. Had Aziraphale decided, after what Crowley had told him last nigh, that he didn't want the little no other caregiver in heaven had wanted either? Was he being so nice to Crowley to make the blow of 'sorry dear boy, but I've decided due to new information that this isn't quite working out" easier on Crowley when it finally came? 

If that was so, Crowley thought, well he'd just enjoy every last second he could before Aziraphale finally saw sense and he was out on his demonic posterior. 

Crowley had woken up to Aziraphale staring down at him, then lovingly peppering him with kisses, which made the demon squirm and giggle. Aziraphale then gave him his morning diaper change, smiling all the while and telling Crowley what a delightful and darling boy he was. Personally Crowley didn't see how wetting the bed made him 'delightful' or 'darling' at all. He rather thought that it made him gross and a nuisance. But he wasn't going to say that to Aziraphale, who for some reason found his absolute lack of bladder control endearing for reasons Crowley couldn't fathom. 

Aziraphale then carried a still a bit sleepy Crowley around on his hip as he made breakfast. He let Crowley break the eggs, which resulted in a mess, but Aziraphale wasn't cross that he had bits of yolk on his face. He just gave Crowley a soppy smile. ( Crowley narrowed his eyes, that had deserved at least a 'really Crowley') 

Aziraphale had made Crowley's favorite. They sat down together at the table and Aziraphale tied a red bib around Crowley's neck. ( this was a new addition after Crowley had managed to spill an entire large spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy all down his front.) Crowley pouted but Aziraphale just booped his nose. He brought a fork full of egss to the littles lips, and Crowley happily devoured them.

Crowley got a bottle of warm milk with his breakfast instead of the usual sippy cup of juice. Then Aziraphale picked him up and carried him into the bathroom and popped him up on the changing table there. (Another new addition to their lives, though Crowley was still usually changed on the changing mat in the bedroom.) Something about lying on the changing table in only his diaper, sucking on his bottle of warm milk made Crowley feel smaller than he ever had before. Especially when he realized that he was also wetting his diaper as he lied there watching Aziraphale draw him a bath. (The sound of running water always seemed to trigger Crowley's bladder to release. Then again so did being frighted, being relaxed, sleeping, having a bottle, sneezing, walking, come to think of, the list might be shorter if Crowley just listed want didn't make him wet himself) 

Aziraphale took off Crowley's diaper. "Wet already dear?" Aziraphale asked, which made Crowley blush and squirm. He knew he was such a baby to have flooded diapers that were only put on an hour and a half ago. But Aziraphale didn't seem cross at all, and made it up to Crowley with heaps of kisses and a bit of tickling. 

The tickling however, made Crowley start to wet again. (Had Crowley added ticking to the list of things that made him wet?) Aziraphale and Crowley both stared at the growing puddle on the changing table. Aziraphale was amused. Crowley was horrified. Aziraphale just laughed and miracled the mess away. 

He then deposited the demon in the tub, and with much, much coaxing got Crowley to let out his wings for a wash. He then placed Crowley's ship and toy octopus in the bath, along with something new. A large toy shark that begain to glow different colors as soon as Aziraphale plopped it in the water. Crowley's eyes lit up and he lunged for the shark. Reflexivly his wings flapped behind him. 

Water flew everywhere. One white haired Angel who had beenkneeling next to the bath tub found himself drenched from head to oxford covered toe. 

Crowley clutched his shark to his naked chest and trembled. Aziraphale had been so kind today and Crowley was ruining everything. He'd made mess of the kitchen when they we're making breakfast, peed all over the changing table, now he'd flooded the bathroom and soaked his angel. He stared worriedly at Aziraphale, waiting for a reprimand, for Aziraphale to finally just be tired of him and the never ending trouble he seemed to bring. 

But Aziraphale just laughed. A deep, joyous laughter that came from the belly. Crowley was very worried that Aziraphale had lost his mind. Then the astuck his hand in the bathwater and splashed Crowley. Apparently Aziraphale had lost his mind. The angel splashed Crowley again, then looked at him expectantly. Crowley gave a tentative splash back. 

Aziraphale looked elated. Though Crowley was worried for the apparent sanity of his angel, he couldn't help himself from getting caught up in the splashing war his angel seemed determined to start. By the end there wasn't a dry bit of bathroom, angel, or demon left and the water was growing cold. Aziraphale, still chuckling, miracled everything but the demon dry, and the bath water warm again. He kissed the top of his head and begain to scrub him gently clean while Crowley occupied himself with attacking his ship with the shark and octopus. 

Once he was clean and plucked from the bath, Aziraphale carefully dried off Crowley's wings then allowed him to put them away. Crowley was laid on the changing mat, pacifier in his mouth ready for a diapering. Aziraphale even skipped putting the plastic pants on the demon when he asked with a pout. (The thicker diapers stayed though, Aziraphale wouldn't put his little demon through the stress of leaking if he could help it.) 

Aziraphale started to rub baby lotion into Crowley's spindly limbs when he struck. (Not literally, Crowley was the snake of this relationship and did all the literal striking within) "Crowley darling, I would really like to ask you to do something for me."

Crowley's limp body tensed. He didn't know for certain what was coming, but he was certain it would be dreadful. Today had been too good to be true. Nothing that was goof for Crowley ever stayed good for long. 

Aziraphale continued.


	67. Chapter 67

Aziraphale produced a fussy little leather bound pocket calander. (Which alway showed the current year and month simply because it was expected to.) There was small cramped writing that Crowley's snake eyes could quite get in focus in the little square the angel was pointing at. 

"You see dear, I usually go for a manicure every week. A bit of an indulgence on my part to be sure, but really, keeping up the health of my corporation is an absolute must if you ask me." (Crowley didn't really see how having one's nails trimmed, buffed, and given a clear coat of gloss was nessecary for the health of anyone's corporation, but he let his angel ramble on) "I've skipped the last three appointments, and well Denise, the lovely girl who does my nails called after me the other day, you wouldn't member it dear, it was while you were napping. She was rather worried. I'd never missed so many appointments before. Well I had to tell her something didn't I? "

Crowley wasn't sure he liked where this was going. 

"Well I may have told her I was looking after a little. And well, I also may have told her that I would bring the aforementioned little to my next appointment? I thought if you wanted to come we could make a day of it. Go out to dinner afterwards, maybe to the park, stop at a shop or two, get you a treat? 

We are getting rather low on diapers, and I know I could just miracle up more but I do so prefer to do it the human way. Oh and bay powder and lotion, we could definitely use some more of that."

Aziraphale paused in his massaging and looked down at his demon with the gentlest of gentle expressions.

"I know that your hesitant to go out when you're little darling boy. And I will certainly understand and not be a bit cross with you if you say no. I just want you to understand that if you do say yes, we won't go where anyone knows you when your big and a I will be so very, very proud to show you off as my little darling. So very, very proud."

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's lotion softened foot. 

How in the Hel.... Somewhere was Crowley supposed to say no to his angel when he put it like that? He was really didn't want to go out when he was so little. He felt like every human that laid eyes on him was thinking what a disgusting little diaper baby he was. But Aziraphale wanted it. And Aziraphale would be there with him. Nothing was ever quite so bad when Aziraphale was with him, and he did so want to make his angel happy. 

Crowley nodded. "Alright angel"

Though around his pacifier it sounded more like "alllthight angle" Aziraphale knew what he meant. 

The angel clapped his hands together happily. "Oh Crowley, I'm so proud of you dear boy! Everyone at the manicurists will just love you!"

Crowley gave a bit of a grimace and lied back to enjoy the rest of his baby lotion massage. He had expected something much worse that a trip to the manicurist and feeding ducks at the park. It really was Crowley's fault that Aziraphale had missed three of his manicures. Three. (A long disused half a brain cell in Crowley's mind coughed and sputtered to life) Three appointments. One every week. This would be the fourth. Four weeks. Four weeks in a month. This meant that Crowley's month of being little with Aziraphale was almost up. It could end any day now. How could it already have been a month? 

Crowley wasn't ready to be big again. He wasn't ready to leave Aziraphale. He wasn't ready to go back to not eating, and sleeping alone, and miracling away his own messes when he wet himself. Crowley just wasn't ready.


	68. Chapter 68

Crowley was not nervous. It was more of a creeping feeling of dread that had been building since this morning. Aziraphale had woken him up, changed him, fed him breakfast, then dressed him like always. Aziraphale had paused for a few moments to coo over 'how darling' Crowley's outfit was. The angel had attired him in a dark red long sleeve shirt, light grey shortalls with black vines embroidered across the front pocket and leg cuffs, black leggings, and dark red combat boots. Crowley sort of liked it himself even if it was a little babyish. His only real objections were the snaps going up the crotch and the fact that Crowley was absolutely sure there was a significantly noticeable diaper buldge around his crotch and backside. 

Aziraphale, the liar that he was, assured Crowley that there wasn't. And even if there was, absolutely no one was going to make fun of him for it. It was very normal and natural for a little of Crowley's age to wear diapers. Look, Aziraphale said, at Edgar and Ellen. No one would mind him a bit. 

Well that certainly hadn't been Crowley's experience. It hadn't just been recently, with the littles who had pantsed him in the toy shop and called him diaper baby. It had begun way before that. Thousands and thousands of years before. 

Crowley remembered only bits of his time as an angel. Mostly he remembered making the stars. He also remembered feeling so utterly small, he had vauge memories of returing to heaven and following around two of the other archangels. (He tried to remember which ones, but their faces blurred in hisind and it gave him a dreadful, throbbing headache when he tried.) 

One day, some of the other angels cornered him. They told him that the angels he had been following around, the ones he thought were his friends,(and maybe his protectors) wanted nothing to do with him. They were disgusted to have his useless self always trailing after them, but we're two nice to say it himself? Didn't he know what everyone in heaven whispered? That he had been made wrong, God had experimented, and the experiment had failed. He was unworthy of his title of archangel. He was unworthy to be an angel at all. 

Crowley kept to himself after that. Crowley could remember the endless loneliness that permeated his time in heaven, then questions, so many questions. All ricocheting around his head like pinballs. They grew louder and louder, untill he was just bursting with them. Untill he went to God. Then there was his fall. Crowley remembered his fall best of all. He felt for the first time in his existence pain, and terror, which had not untill then existed in heaven.

The demons we're surprisingly a bit better. Crowley didn't know if they knew or not. They just ignored him. He spent ages curled up in a little corner of hell rocking back and forth trying to soothe himself untill someone came up to him and told him to stop being useless go upstairs and make some trouble. 

It was alright in the garden, he was a snake there most of the time. But as Adam and Eve got their eviction notice and begain rearing a new generation of the human race Crowley was sent out amongst them to make trouble too. And, as Crowley soon found out, it was easiest to make that trouble when one wasn't confined to slithering everywhere one needed to go. 

He learned what he was when the humans learned it, a little. An eternal child, created to always need. Need someone to care for them, clean up after them, love them. And to balance the whole thing out there we're caregivers. Caregivers who we're made with a need to care for, well everyone and everything really. But most especially littles. 

Crowley has thought he might have finally found his place in the universe. He had a name now for what he was! He could find a caregiver. Someone who wouldn't mind that now that he ate and drank like a human, he could never seem to stop wetting his robes, and occasionally (before he figured out how to miracle it away before it came out) soiled them as well. His caregiver wouldn't mind that he sucked his thumb or bits of his robe for comfort. They would hold him when he felt small and frightened and he would never feel alone again. In return Crowley would love them with everything that he was. He would protect them from heaven and hell. He would cuddle them when they were sad. He would miracle them up anything they desired. 

Finding a caregiver was a very short lived dream for the demon. He learned how littles were thought of 'weak' and 'useless' being choice descriptions. Caregivers we're a bit better. They at least had something to offer, but moat people thought it was wasted on useless littles. Caregivers natural tendancies would be much more useful if they became healers or tended baseline's real proper children who might grow up to be useful in ways littles never would. 

Even the caregivers who did want littles seemed to far prefer the older ones. The ones who could at least sometimes make it to the bathroom (or chamber pot or commode, or what ever was in fashion that century) Who didn't need to constantly be attached to a caregiver's hip being cuddled and bottle fed. The littlest littles, the ones like Crowley, we're often looked down upon and discarded. Even caregivers often tired of the endless diaper changes and clinging. In a world so harsh and unforging, no one could afford to provide for the needs of useless babies who would always stay that, useless babies. 

Even in more modern time, when humans said they 'no longer discriminated' Where having a little was a sign of affluence and it was obvious with a look into the books of any adoption agency that older littles were still vastly preferred. 

Crowley had made up his mind very early on that he just wouldn't be a little anymore. No one was going to care for him. Least of all his most beautiful and perfect angel. So he just wouldn't be little anymore. He sought out the herbs a and poultices, and later powders and pills, that would make him be less little. And Crowley never looked back. 

Untill now. Now he had tasted the forbidden fruit... And it was delicious. Aziraphale was so, so kind and good to him. One month of his loving care was more than Crowley could ever deserve. Even the mirror wraiths had been lovely to him. He had made friends! Friends! 

But as Aziraphale gathered up Crowley's diaper bag and hoisted the demon on his hip and made his way to the shop door, Crowley knew the world of humans would not be so kind.


	69. Chapter 69

Denise was a very tall woman with an afro which made her appear even taller, and five multicolored talons on each hand. The shop which was small and owned by Denise (Aziraphale had always had a thing for patronizing small businesses) was populated with two other employees. The first was middle aged man with a platinum blond dye job on his slightly receding hair, and a pink paisley shirt. The second was a young woman with pink hair who was rather loudly chomping on an atrociously large wad of bubble gum, blowing and popping the occasional bubble. 

In the absence of any other customers they all converged on Aziraphale and Crowley like vultures on roadkill. Crowley hid his face in Aziraphale's neck as they all cooed over him. This only served to make them coo more at what a shy little dear he was. Crowley lifted his head up long enough to shoot them all a glare. (No one could be sufficiently cowed by Crowley's glare, as it was hidden behind his dark glasses)

Unfortunately for Crowley the nature of a manicure meant that he would have to set Crowley down. Crowley was not pleased. He squirmed unhappily when Aziraphale placed him on the big squishy sofa in the waiting area. Aziraphale kissed Crowley's cheek placatingly, and told him he would only be a little while. (He didn't insult either of them by asking the demon to be good.) 

Crowley clutched his angel bear and his blankie tightly and sucked on his pacifier nervously as Aziraphale walked back with Denise and Crowley was left alone. He wasn't alone for very long however. The pink haired one, who had introduced herself as Missy, plopped down beside him. She popped another bubble. "Hey baby"

Crowley looked up at her. 

"I gots an idea, how bout you and I go back and I'll do your nails, just like your Daddy's gettin done? I got lots of pretty colors to pick from."

Crowley contemplated the offer for a moment. "Black?"

Missy smiled, "Of course you cute little goth you" (on a side note Crowley had invented Goth, also Punk, but not Emo though it was heavily inspired by him and one particularly awful haircut he had once sported) 

Crowley was exceptionally pleased with his shiny new black nails, which Aziraphale wasn't even charged for. Aziraphale was pleased that Crowley was pleased. And when Denise said she hoped that the two of them would be back again, Aziraphale thought it might be a real possibility. It was so lovely to go places with Crowley by his side. Aziraphale hoped that if the rest of the day went this splendidly, Crowley could be coaxed into making this a regular occurrence. 

He picked Crowley up and felt his comforting weight against him. "Now dear, we shall go and get you some new toys shall we?"

He felt his little demon nod into his neck. So Aziraphale happily started of for the nearest shop that catered to littles. 

Crowley refused to leave Aziraphale's side in the shop. He did consent to being put down, as Aziraphale needed his hands to carry things that weren't Crowley. Crowley even stuck by Aziraphale when he bought powder and lotion and wipes and diapers. Even though he flushed red when Aziraphale picked up the kind that proclaimed on the package that they were 'Extra absorbent' for 'Baby Littles and heavy wetters'. (Also the amount of packages of diapers Aziraphale was getting could hardly be nessicary, could it?) After getting a few new bottles, sippy cups, and clothing, as well as a shiny new red pacifier that said 'little devil' on it, they moved on to more interesting things. Namely the toys. 

Aziraphale encouraged Crowley to pick some things out. He choose a large set of wooden blocks (good for building with and knocking down) a big toy dragon with shiny red scales, a sleek black plush duck, a red and black furby (though Crowley had invented them, he had never had one himself) and a mobile that had stars and planets on it. With each purchase Crowley looked back at Aziraphale worried that it was too many things, too much money, but Aziraphale just smiled and encouraged the demon on. 

Once their purchases were paid for and discretely miracled back to the bookshop, with the exception of the duck which stayed with Crowley, Aziraphale took Crowley to a tiny Italian restaurant where Crowley had never been but everyone greeted Aziraphale by name. Crowley was subjected to the indignanty of a high chair and a bib. But it was rather worth it for two reasons. First that Crowley got to eat his pasta with his hands and make just as much mess as he pleased. And he pleases to make a lot of mess. (Aziraphale found his messy little demon happily eating fistfulls of pasta with sauce smeared all around his mouth and down his bib one of the most endearing sights he had ever seen. He wished very much that he had had a camera so he could capture his little looking so adorable and care free forever) 

The second reason was the absolute rapture in which Aziraphale tucked away at his own pasta. Crowley had always liked to watch Aziraphale eat. He always enjoyed it so much, and Crowley enjoyed his angel enjoying things. 

Once dinner was finished, and one rather messy demon was wrangled and wiped down with baby wipes, Aziraphale and Crowley headed to the park for ice cream and duck feeding. 

In Aziraphale's arms, sucking on his paci and clutching his blanket and ducky, Crowley found himself suprised by how well the day had gone. No one had tried to run him out of their village, (though that might have been because London was not technically a village) No one had called him a diaper baby or a waste of space, and if Crowley was on the receiving end of any dirty looks he had been so focused on his angel, he hadn't noticed. 

Maybe it was the difference of having a caregiver. Maybe it was the difference of having Aziraphale. 

Yes, thought Crowley, snuggling into his angel, nothing could spoil this day now.


	70. Chapter 70

Crowley wouldn't admit it, but he rather like ducks. Today they hadn't sat on the bench, but walked right up to the edge of the water where a flock of ducks sensed the presence of bread and swarmed the quacking and tugging on their clothing with hungry little beaks. 

Crowley had plopped himself down (with a bit of a squish, he hadn't had a diaper change in a while. Aziraphale had wanted to change him at the restaurant, but Crowley had insisted and pleaded in equal measures that it could wait untill they we're home) and was covered in hungry ducks. 

Crowley begain to laugh as the ducks swarmed him. This tipped the first domino in a series of events. As Crowley laughed his pacifier fell out of his mouth. One of the ducks who witnessed this found it an enticingly shiny object and waddled up to Crowley's lap to make a grab for it. He was successful, and waddled away just as fast as his little duck feet could carry him, which was surprisingly fast. 

Crowley jumped up dislodging a plethora of ducks as he went after the fowl thief. Demon chased duck. Duck ran from demon. Unbeknownst to either of them a man in an expensive suit was talking on an equally expensive phone and walking hurriedly towards them like he had somewhere important to be. (He didn't really, he was just the kind of person who thought anywhere he was or was going was important, because he was important) 

Crowley focused on his duck chase didn't notice the man. The man did however notice Crowley. He did not stop or slow his rapid pace, he expected Crowley to stop for him the fact that Crowley had not seen him nonwithstanding. 

Obviously disaster was imminent. The man barreled into the demon. Crowley went flying, ripping his leggings and skinning both his knees and an elbow. The man' s escaped unscaled, his expensive phone however did not. It went flying out of his hand and cracked on the ground in a heap of broken glass and warped plastic. The man after staring for a few seconds at the wreckage that used to be his cellular phone, turned on Crowley who was just sitting up holding his sore elbow to his chest and trying desperately not to cry. 

"You little bastard!"

Crowley looked up at the man who was charging towards him. He picked the gangly demon up by his collar and dragged him over the pile of scarp that was formerly a phone and shoved his head down very close to it. So Crowley couldn't help but look at it. "You see that you little bastard? That's a 15,000 dollar phone you just ruined!"

Now if Crowley were feeling just slightly less little, he would have gone a snakey there and then and gave this unpleasant personage the fright of his life. Crowley however, was feeling very, very little at the moment. All this time he had been progressivly slipping farther and farther into littlespace. Now his nice day out with Aziraphale had put him in the littlest state he had ever been in. His knees and elbow hurt, he was confused and on the verge of a crying fit, he just wanted his Papa. 

His Papa was coming, storming towards the man in a sort of ritcheous fury after he had seen what had been done to his little. He pushed the man back and took a shaking Crowley into his arms. "Now see here you... You... Despicable person! How dare you treat a baby in such a manner!"

The man's stare was cold as he narrowed his eyes at the sobbing little. "That's not a baby, that's a genetic mistake. If you want to take that little bastard out you should get him a leash so he doesn't bother decent people!"

What happened next was obscured in a blinding flash of white light that ended with his waking up in the hospital every bit of him aching, (He would also soon after develope an extremely bad and remarkably stubborn case of genital warts) and Crowley and Aziraphale safely tucked away back home in the bookshop. 

Aziraphale healed Crowley's poor little knees and elbow and apologized endlessly to his baby. Crowley just shrugged and said "don't worry angel it happens all the time"

Aziraphale was aghast. "What do you mean it happens all the time?"

Crowley shrugged "It just does. Lots of people don't like littles."

"You mean this has happened to you before?"

Crowley nodded "Yea, when I first was on earth, before I figured out how to hide it. It really is no big deal angel. "

"No, big!? ... No big deal!?" Aziraphale took a deep breath. "Crowley dear, I'm going to change you and then I'm going ro make some tea for me and a bottle for you, and then if you please, your going to tell me all about these things that happened to you that are 'no big deal' Can you do that for me?"

Crowley shrugged. He didn't see why Aziraphale was so interested. Surely he had seen plenty of cruelty to littles in his six thousand years on earth. But, well, if it made his angel happy Crowley would tell him all of the miserable stories of his unhappy existence he wanted to hear.


	71. Chapter 71

Crowley was cosily settled down in Aziraphale's lap with a tummy full of milk and an only a now slightly damp diaper. He was cocooned in blankets with his plushies and dolls ad blankey to keep him company. He rested his head against his angel's chest and listened to his unnecessary, yet comforting, heartbeat. 

Aziraphale asked he start from the beginning so he did. He stared with what he remembered of his creation, then heaven, his fall, hell, the garden then his time amongst the humans. He told Aziraphale that the only thing angels, demons, and humans seemed to ever agree about was that littles we're useless. He told about every time that sentiment had been echoed over and over again to him right up to his first trip to the toy store and the littles that pulled down his leggings and mocked him as he wet his diaper. 

He told Aziraphale about the time that he had accidentally wet himself when he was sleeping on a boat trip in ancient Rome and woke up to the fellow he had been friends with tossing him overboard. He talked about that one unfortunate run in with a witchfinder who believed that all littles were possesed by Satan. He had been caught absentmindedly sucking his thumb and rubbing his fingers soothingly over his coat buttons. The entire towns reaction to this was to attempt to burn him ath the stake. Or maybe tourture him for a bit first under the guise of "questioning him to make sure he was possessed" and then burn him at the stake. He hadn't stayed to find out. 

He told Aziraphale of ever time he was run out of a village, or a group of people had tried to corner him in a dark alley to "have some fun with him." 

He relayed this with the same amount of emotion as one would use to read a particularly tedious tax return. 

He didn't tell Aziraphale how frighted he was. How he had often wet or soiled himself with fear. How terribly alone and unloved he had felt. How he had often cried himself to sleep at night wondering why everyone hated him so much for a thing that he didn't choose and couldn't change. 

When he had finished he looked up at Aziraphale a and noticed the tears streaming down his face. Crowley gently wiped them away with the edge of his blanky. "I don't know why you wanted to hear all this if it makes you cry angel."

Aziraphale sniffed and squeezed Crowley so tightly that if the demon had needed to breathe it would have posed a significant problem. 

"Crowley dear, darling boy, I am so very, very sorry. I know I can't change any of the truly awful things that have happened to you. I want you to know that if anything like that ever happens again, I want you to come straight away and get me and I will take care of it for you. I'm so terribly sorry I didn't protect you before, but I will in the future darling. No one will ever hurt you like that again. "

"I can take care of myself angel. I did it for ages and I'm just fine" (this was largely a matter of opinion) 

Aziraphale's gaze went all soft and sad at the same time. "I know dear. You're so unbelievably strong and brave my darling baby boy. But just because you can take care of yourself, doesn't mean you should always have to. You've taken such good care of me for so long Crowley now let me take care if you for a bit"

Crowley just shrugged. He didn't want to make trouble for his angel. But that's what he seemed to bring. It must be a hard enough job to look after such a baby as him without him running crying to Aziraphale every time someone made fun of him for wetting himself. It did however make him feel oddly warm and a bit gooey inside (Crowley wondered if his corporation's organs were malfunctioning) that Aziraphale had offered to stand up for him. (Someday Crowley would learn that this is how it felt to be loved) 

Tears were still silently trickling down Aziraphale's cheeks so Crowley again used his blankey to wipe them away. His angel shouldn't cry for him. Crowley kissed both of Aziraphale's cheeks, where the tear tracks had glistened just moments before. "I love you" he whispered to the angel who was to good and pure for hell and earth and heaven itself, and most certainly to good and pure for the disgraceful demon Crowley. 

Crowley couldn't bear to see his angel so sad. So he gave his best pleading eyes to tempt the angel. "Read to me? Winnie the Pooh?" (Aziraphale adored Whinnie the Pooh and had memoried all the books. He enjoyed it more than Crowley who had a bit of a preference for things like Alice in Wonderland and the Little Prince.) 

Whinnie the Pooh had never failed to cheer up the Angel before and it did not fall short of expectations this time. Aziraphale gave a watery smile. "Would you like a bottle as well dear?"

Crowley nodded and was hoisted up on the angel's hip. As Aziraphale made milky tea that would be poured into a red baby bottle and a white angel wing mug respectively, Crowley contemplated the mind boggling fact that someway, somehow, against all odds and reason, this beautiful, perfect angel cared for him. Him. Crowley. Terrible angel and even worse demon. Disgusting little who no one wanted. 

He nuzzeld into the angel's neck. There really was nothing for it, Crowley figured, but to enjoy it while it lasted.


	72. Chapter 72

Crowley was getting the most delightful of belly rubs. Sometime during the night he had gotten a bit too hot and wriggled out of his feetie pajamas to sleep in only his diaper and plastic pants. In the morning Aziraphale had been completely charmed by the sight of his baby splayed on his back across the bed like a languid cat. The dear thing attired in only his diaper and plastic pants, clutching his blankey and devil bear. His red pacifier gently bobbing up and down in his mouth Aziraphale couldn't resist. He miracled Crowley's soggy night diaper dry. Though he prefered by far to change Crowley the human way, he didnt want to disturb his darling demon just now by moving him about. He then miracled the baby lotion into his hand  
Rubbing it between his hands to warm it, then he begins to rub his baby's exposed tummy. 

He explore Crowley's ribs which he is please to see are no longer so exposed that he can stick half the length of his finger in the divits between them. He is equally pleased to find that Crowley's stomach is now flat between his hipbones and no longer concave. With just a bit of loving care (and the consumption of actual food) his demon is looking so much better. 

Crowley is awake now, yellow eyes staring at the angel. His little is making the cutest little noises of pleasure as Aziraphale continues his ministrations. Crowley's whole spindly body had gone limp. Aziraphale loves these moments. He loves being the reason that Crowley looks so pleased and relaxed. 

Aziraphale can hear faint hissing sounds, and notices a darkening and sagging of Crowley's diaper. He pauses, wondering if the demon will want to cover up or hide now. He knows that his baby is deeply ashamed of his diapers and inability to keep them dry. This is the first time Crowley's diapers have been so exposed to Aziraphale when Crowley was wetting them. 

Crowley however doesn't seem to care about his accident at all. He just wriggles a little and nudges Aziraphale's hand to get the angel to start rubbing again. 

Aziraphale's eyes go a bit misty. Crowley is placing so much trust in him. Crowley trusts him to touch such vulnerable parts of his corporation. Crowley trusts him not to make fun of his wetting like so many others had. Crowley trusts Aziraphale to care for him. 

Aziraphale wants this forever. He wants Crowley hear with him, this little and affectionate, and carefree always. But Aziraphale knows that he need to give Crowley a choice in the matter. He had already pushed Crowley to be little, to wear diapers, to go outside. 

The month was up and it had to be Crowley's choice to stay. Aziraphale was almost sure he would. Crowley seemed fairly happy with him, and despite a few setbacks they had made wonderful progress together. It had to be Crowley's decision though. 

Besides, Crowley might want a bit of time to be big, now that the agreed upon month was up. Aziraphale would never keep Crowley from going out and driving the Bentley, or making a bit of Mischief, or whatever else the demon usually did to amuse himself. But if Aziraphale was very lucky, and he thought he just might be, Crowley would still come home to him every night for a diapering, and bottle, and a cuddle. 

"Crowley darling" he said, still rubbing the demon's tummy. "It's been a moth since we made our deal dear boy, and I was wondering if you wouldn't like to be big for a while?"

Crowley stiffened a bit, and wriggled up to sit propped up on his elbows. He gave an odd little smile. "Of course angel, I'll be big again tomorrow. Very big. The biggest"

Aziraphale smiled at the demon. He had sort od figured Crowley might want a bit of time to be a bit bigger after so long (for Crowley) spent in little space. "Now Crowley, I have something very important to ask you. You can take your time to answer if you want. Remember whatever you decide I won't be cross. Do you want our relationship to continue?"

Crowley shot him an unreadable look. "Of course angel! I love you. If you still want to. It will be just like before."

Aziraphale smiled widely and kissed Crowley's face untill the demon smiled and tried to wiggle away from him. It was official Anthony J Crowley was his little now. He felt gratuitously soppy for the demon. 

Crowley must have felt the same, because the rest of the day he clung to Aziraphale whining softly for kisses and cuddles. He asked several times for Aziraphale to read him stories and to feed him bottles. Aziraphale was more than happy to indulge Crowley, even if it did mean an increase in diaper changes. 

All in all, it was a lovely, cozy day in with his baby. As Aziraphale tucked his freshly diapered demon into bed with his plushies, blankey, and pacifier, he couldn't help but think how lovely everything would be from now on.


	73. Chapter 73

In an odd turn of events Crowley was awake before Aziraphale. He sat up in bed to find the demon already dressed in his old clothes. (Including that dreadfull little shoelace/ tie/ tassle abomination Aziraphale had hoped he was rid of forever) He looked a bit stiff and uncomfortable, figiting and shifting from foot to foot when he noticed Aziraphale was awake. 

This...well it just wasn't how Aziraphale had thought the morning would go. He had planned to wake Crowley up with kisses. Then he would help Crowley pick out clothes and a pullup for the day if Crowley wanted. Or, if the demon wanted to dress himself, Aziraphale would just leave him to it and go make them some breakfast after making sure his demon had a pull up on.

He knew Crowley might object slightly to a pullup when he was big, but Aziraphale was going to insist upon it for two reasons. 

First his darling demon had no more control over his bladder when he was big then when he was little. (Even the strongest of suppressants taken at many times the recommend dosages hadn't been enough to completely quell Crowley's bed and pants wetting) Aziraphale couldn't really bear the thought of sending Crowley out into the world without making sure he was wearing at least some kind of protection. (Aziraphale would prefer that Crowley be snugly taped up in a thick diaper and plastic pants for good measure. He hated to see how upset his baby got when he leaked. But he knew that he would never be able to talk Crowley into wearing something that would be so visible under his ridiculously tight trousers while he was big) 

Second, because Aziraphale wanted Crowley to have a constant reminder of Aziraphale discreetly tucked away under his clothes while he was out. A reminder that the angel loved him and would take care of him even when he was big. A reminder that at the end of the day he would come home and be Aziraphale's darling baby boy once again. 

Apparently none of that would happen now, as for some reason Crowley felt the need to dress in secret early on the morning as if Aziraphale hadn't seen his bare corporation many, many times by now. At least, though Aziraphale with a bit of a sulk. They could still have breakfast together. 

They did not have breakfast. As Aziraphale made to get up, Crowley begain to babble."Angel! Just going to say goodbye. I'm very big now and have lots of demony things to do. So I'm just going to pop off."

He darted over and gave Aziraphale a quick kiss on the cheek then was out the door before Aziraphale could even blink. Well... That hadn't gone to plan at all. 

But it was alright, Aziraphale thought, Crowley was probably just feeling a bit awkward coming out of little space and couldnt wait to go for a drive in the Bentley or something. 

Aziraphale got himself dressed and had a rather lonely breakfast all by his lonesome. He then puttered down to opent the bookshop for the first time in a month. It wasn't that he particularly wanted nasty customers to come in and try and make off with his precious tomes mind you. It just seemed like the ting to do. Chasing away a customer or two would distract him from the little bit of separation anxiety he could feel from his demon's absence. 

Aziraphale would get used to Crowley's big days with a bit of time, he told himself. When Crowley was big they could sometimes make a day of it go to the Ritz or get absolutely plastered on wine from Aziraphale's storage room. 

The at the end of the day, Crowley would be tucked in Aziraphale's arms, diaper on his bottom, pacifier in his mouth, cuddly toys and blankets clutched in thin hands, right where he belonged. 

Yes, thought Aziraphale, from now on existence for the both of them would be absolutely splendid!


	74. Chapter 74

Crowley flopped on his slightly musty smelling bed. His apartment felt more cold and barren than ever before when he had just spent a moth in the cozy bookshop, basking in the glow of his angel's warmpth. 

He wondered how long he would have to wait untill it would be appropriate to ask Aziraphale for some little time again? Ideally maybe Crowley would like a little day every month, but that would probably be far too much. A day twice a year maybe? He couldn't possibly hope for a whole month every year like he had just had. It was terribly generous for his angel to be so willing to look after him while he was little. Crowley didn't want to impose so much that Aziraphale tired of him. Maybe a month every five years? 

Crowley flopped onto his back and stared at his ceiling. Why was he being such a baby about this. He had just had a month (give or take) of being little. It was more time than he had spent being little in six thousand years. Surely it should be enough? But it wasn't. It hadn't made the burning need to be little and smothered in care and affection lessen, it had just made it stronger. 

It had barely been a couple hours and Crowley was already longing for the bookshop, his blankey, his toys, his pacifiers, and most importantly his angel. As the demon gave an uncomfortable wriggle in the large, rapidly cooling wet spot of pee he had just made, he could maybe admit, if only to himself and maybe his angel, that he missed his diapers too. 

Sure he could miracle up one, but it would hardly be the same. Crowley found some slightly shameful comfort now in being swaddled in a thick diaper. But that comfort came from knowing that his angel had lovingly taped it on him, and when he inevitably soaked it, his angel would be there to tell him it was alright and change him with affection and tummy kisses. 

The (rather unnecessarily loud in Crowley's opinion) crinkling of his diaper, and the thick bulk between his legs, and the plasticy rustle of his plastic pants had reminded him that he was a gross pants wetting baby, but he was also loved by the best angel in existence. If he wore a diaper now it would just remind him that there would be no angel to change him anymore. 

Crowley would be strong, he thought as he tried to keep his lip from wobbling. He would just have to be alright untill the next time he could reasonably ask his angel for some more little time. 

He miracled his mess away. He would just go back to taking his suppressants. He walked on slightly shaky legs to his bathroom. He had been talking one at a time a few times a day, but he thought his current condition called for something more drastic. He opened the bottle poured several in his hand and tipped back the handful of pills. 

Unfortunately for Crowley his body did not seem to be on the same page as he was, and didn't seem to particularly want to go back to pretending to be big. It rejected the suppressant. Hard. 

Crowley spent the next few hours violently reching up pills and everything he had ever eaten. (This was a slight exaggeration, but only a slight one) Sometime during his heaving he had thoroughly wet himself again. His whole thin frame shook, and he felt cold and clammy and all around ill. He was terribly worried that he would discorperate. 

He didn't think that what with his current standing with Hell, they would be too keen on giving him another corporation anytime soon. 

He'd never see his angel again. Never take him to the Ritz again. Never feed the ducks together. Never again have a cuddle with him. Never lay on his angel's lap nursing a warm bottle being read to with his angel's soothing voice he snuggled in further to his angel's plump warmpth. Crowley was scared. 

Eventually with much more heaving and crying, and another accident or two, it begain to end. Crowley sat back in the puddle he had made on the linoleum, still shaking. He waited a while, but when no more heaving came, he decided he would get up and go to bed to sleep away the next million years.

He cleaned himself and the floor up with a tired miracle. Miracled his clothes away and fell into his bed exhausted. He curls up in his covers, but the slippery silk felt wrong against his skin. He found didn't know quite what to do with his arms without something comforting to hold. There was no Aziraphale to hold the demon either. 

After a while of uncomfortable tossing and turning, Crowley shakily sat up and gathered all his pillows up. He miracled up a tartan night shirt (like one owned by a specific angel) and shoved all yje pillows into it. He made sure to pad the middle especially well. Then, lying his head on the belly of the makeshift Aziraphale, Crowley finally fell into a fit full sleep.


	75. Chapter 75

Aziraphale was getting a tad worried. When Crowley hadn't come home that night, Aziraphale had just told himself Crowley had needed a bit more time to be big. When Crowley still hadn't shown up the next day Aziraphale thought that maybe the demon just needed a bit more time to be big. Three days, surely that would be enough? When he wasn't home by the fourth day, Aziraphale started to fret in earnest. 

He had been worried about the demon since he left. Small worries. Would Crowley eat enough? Would he remember to miracle away his accidents in a timely manner so he didn't get a rash? 

Now he was fretting that he had done something wrong. Something to make Crowley not want to come back to him. What if he had found a new caregiver. Or been kidnapped (demon-napped? little-napped? Baby-napped? Snake-napped?) What if he had been kidnapped by a caregiver? Crowley was adorable. Surely any caregiver would want the little demon for their own. 

Aziraphale picked up the phone, intending to call Crowley's flat for a start and see if his baby was there. The he put the phone back down. What if Crowley thought he was smothering him? Aziraphale had always been fussy. He wanted to care for things, from preserving precious books to making sure a demon he had just met didn't get soaked in an incoming downpour. What if that's why Crowley hadn't come back? 

Tomorrow, Aziraphale told himself, he would call tomorrow. It would be a week after all since the demon had left. (A work week, but still in Aziraphale's opinion a week) He would just call and see if the demon wanted to come home. Surely he was feeling the need to be little again by now? 

Midday the next day Aziraphale made the call. The conversation went something like this. 

"Hello Crowley dear!"

"Angel?" Came the groggy reply. 

"Yes Crowley dear, it's me."

"Did you want something?"

"Ahhh.. Just to see how you are?" And when you'll be coming back home to me where you belong. Aziraphale wanted to say, but he didn't want to push Crowley. 

"Mm mm fine. I'mmm sleepin'. 

"Oh?" Crowley was sleeping? Did he have a diaper on? Had he wet the bed? Was he alright? Crowley always got overwhelmed having to clean himself up after an accident. Was he sleeping alright without his night time bottle of warm milk? His blankey? His plushies? His dolls? His paci? And most importantly, why wasn't Crowley home sleeping with him? 

"Mmmmh. Isssss that all angel?"

"Errr.... Ummmm.... Yes." Aziraphale said though he wasn't very sure of that at all. 

"K" said Crowley and hung up.

Aziraphale spent the rest of the day staring forlornly out of the window, wondering what he'd done so wrong to chase away his baby, when Crowley had just agreed to be his little. 

The next day he received a box of rather expensive French pastries from his favorite bakery. There was a note that read simply 

To my Angel, 

Love Crowley

So apparently Crowley wasn't cross with him? Otherwise why would he be sending him delicious French pastries? Aziraphale was confused and distraught. Crowley still wasn't coming home. Aziraphale didn't know what to do. Crowley was his own person.. Demon.. Whatever. The point was Crowley could make his own choices and Aziraphale had no right to interfere. 

At the same time ever instinct he had as a caregiver was screaming at him to march right over to Crowley's sad excuse for a home and scoop him up and carry him back to the bookshop where he would be safe and looked after and give him a cuddle. 

Aziraphale didn't know what to do, so, like the sensible creature he was, he decided to do nothing. Literally nothing. He stopped opening the bookshop. He stopped having any interest in his books. He stopped having any interest in his three meals a day plus snacks either. He just puttered around the bookshop, which was still as cluttered as ever but somehow felt terribly, achingly empty. 

Aziraphale drifted through days in a grey haze. Everything in his home only served to remind him more of his demon's absence. There was the sofa where he had given Crowley his bottles and read to him as they snuggled. The toy castle where he and the demon had played knights and dragons sat next to the sofa. Crowley's beautiful fingerpainting still hung in the wall. The bathroom had his baby's changing table stacked with diapers and wipes, lotions and powders. The demon's bath toys were still in the tub. Aziraphale's bed, which Aziraphale had thought would be Aziraphale and Crowley's bed now, was still filled with Crowley's blankey, plushies, dolls, and blankets. His red pacifier sat on the nightstand along with last night's empty bedtime bottle and the book Aziraphale had been reading to the demon. 

Everything was just as Crowley had left it, patiently waiting for the demon to come back. Aziraphale feared however that they, and he would be waiting a long time. 

The angel dabbed at his eyes with a tartan handkerchief. He miracled up his pajamas and got in bed. He gathered Crowley's blankie and devil bear to him. Taking in the faint babish scent of his demon. Aziraphale lied there for a very long time in a heavy grey haze. Wishing it was his baby that he was clutching.


	76. Chapter 76

When Aziraphale heard knocking he sat bolt upright. Immediately he was pulled from the not quite asleep, but not quite awake either state he had been in. Crowley! Oh how he hoped it might be Crowley coming back to him. 

Aziraphale's short lived hopes were dashed and summarily sunk, like a ship on the rocks when he realized the knocking was coming from the bathroom mirror. Aziraphale shuffled in to find Helena, Edgar and Ellen staring back at him. 

He gave them all a sad smile. (At least Aziraphale thought he was smiling, what he was doing however was more of a pained grimace.) 

The twins were bouncing around trying to peek behind Aziraphale. "Is Crowley here?" "Where's Crowley?" "We miss him!" "We wanna play!"

Aziraphale felt rather like crying when he had to explain to the twins and Helena that Crowley was no longer here with him by choice. That the demon had decided to be big for a while, and went back to his own flat to do, well, whatever demons did. The twins matching smiles faded as Aziraphale informed them that he did not, in fact, know when (if ever) the demon would be back. 

The twins had stopped bouncing by now and Helen wore a look of concern. 

"But, that's not right!" One of the twins said (Aziraphale wasn't certain which) 

"Yea, Crowley loves you to bits. He wouldn't just leave!" The other chimed in. "Does he even have his stuffies or his blankey?" "Did he take Lenore and Annabelle?" "Who will give him bottles and diaper changes?"

No, Aziraphale answered, Crowley hadn't taken any of those things, and he probably didn't want them anymore as he was big at the moment. 

The twins however vehemently opposed this notion. "Crowley loves his dolls and plushies and blankets! You don't stop liking those things just cause you're big." "And you can't not be little for so long! You just can't!"

Helena sent the now distressed twins away to find Jack and Gregor for a bottle, with a kiss to each of their foreheads. Then she turned to Aziraphale and demanded he recount everything that had happened up untill Crowley had left. 

When he was done, Helena looked grave. She echoed the twins sentiments "this doesn't seem right."

Aziraphale then had an idea. A good idea. (Aziraphale having an idea wasn't particularly unusual, Aziraphale had had many ideas over his thousands of years of existence. However most of them were catastrophicly bad) "Could you just check up on Crowley for me? Just pop in through his bathroom mirror and make sure he's alright?" 

Helena nodded. "Yes, I rather believe that would be a good idea in present circumstances. Are you sure you do not want to go angel Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "I couldn't. Crowley is his own person... Errr... Demon and can make his own choices. I wouldn't want him to think I was smothering him, and loose him entirely."

Helena nodded, still looking a bit grave. "I will need something of his. Something that is close to him, a toy or piece of clothing perhaps."

Aziraphale went to the bed and retrieved Crowley's blankie. Helena stuck one slender brown hand out of the mirror, and Aziraphale gently handed her the blanket. 

They nodded to each other and said their polite goodbyes. The Aziraphale was left staring at his own pathetic reflection in the mirror. 

He begain to pace nervously. He hoped that Crowley was alright. That he was taking care of himself. That he would be back soon. 

At the same time he worried that Crowley was alright, better than alright. He worried that Crowley was perfectly happy away from Aziraphale and didn't feel the need or even want to ever come back home to him. 

Aziraphale paced harder. He debated praying, but considering recent events, he wasn't certain god was still taking incoming prayers from him. 

All Aziraphale could do was wait.


	77. Chapter 77

Crowley didn't feel good. In fact he felt terrible. He had tried to take suppressants again twice ( in significantly smaller doses) but again he had been bent over the toilet shaking and dry heaving. Everything in his stomach had long since been evacuated. 

He managed to crawl back to bed, where he covered himself up with every blanket he owned and buried his face into the Aziraphale pillow. He was so tired, and his stomach was on fire. He was also freezing. A condition that was not helped by the fact that he was lying in a puddle of his own wee that he didn't have the strength to miracle away. 

His diaper area and thighs also were feeling a bit raw, but Crowley considered that a fairly minor discomfort compared to all his other woes. He just shifted to the dry side of the bed. That proved to be a temporary solution however as Crowley soon woke from a uneasy sleep to find himself in a new, freshly produced wet spot. Crowley gave up and just lied there on the bed listlessly. 

He drifted in and out of a very uncomfortable sleep where in he had vauge nightmares he couldn't remember upon waking. So when he heard a faint tapping, he wasn't sure if he was awake or asleep. 

The tapping persisted. Crowley grumbled and buried his head farther into pillow Aziraphale's chest. "If you're going to kill me, just come and get it over with!" He called out to whatever bugaboo was lurking around the place tapping. 

He was highly alarmed however, when there we're more noises. Followed by his bedroom door opening, and a dark, blurry figure stepping in. Crowley, never much of a fighter, pulled the blankets up over his head and closed his eyes. The figure came towards him. Crowley could hear footsteps. He cowered. He was sure that whatever it was was going to eat him or drag him back down to hell... Or worse, up to heaven. Instead it just laid a gentle hand on his head. 

"Demon Crowley sweetie" Came a soft voice that he was almost certain he knew. "Can you take of the blanket for me sweetheart?"

Crowley brought the blanket down far enough so that his yellow eyes peeked out. There sitting on the edge of his bed was Helena the mirror wraith. 

Crowley relaxed. "Wha' r you doing here?"

"The twins wanted to play, and I couldn't find you and the angel Aziraphale told me you left, so I was worried about you and came to check on you."

"Mmmm fine. And I can't play... Mmm not little anymore."

"Are you sure sweetie? You don't look very well. Are you sure you wouldn't like to tell me what's wrong, then we could get you out of that wet bed and cleaned up? Maybe have a nice warm bottle?"

"Noooo mmmm fine"

Helena petted his hair. "Please tell me what's wrong? I won't be mad."

Crowley rather wanted his suffering to end at this point, so he gave in and told Helena "I took pills. Little suppressants, nnnn they made me sick."

Helena's hand was still stroking Crowley's hair, much like Aziraphale used to do. "And why did you do that instead of going back to Aziraphale?"

" I can't. ''ziraphale let me be little for a month. Now I have to be big again. ''ziraphale said I should be big. He's only gonna take care of me sometimes, when I absolutely need to be little like every five years or so. That way he won't get tired of me, n I get to be little sometimes."

Helena, who had never met an angel or demon before Aziraphale and Crowley wondered if they were all this stupid. 

"Crowley sweetie," Helena said as gently as she possibly could "I don't think that's what Aziraphale meant at all. When I saw the Angel Aziraphale he seemed very upset that you hadn't come home."

Crowley sat bolt upright, which made his vision go a little black around the edges for a second or two. 

Helena placed her hands in his shoulders to steady the demon. "What are you doing sweetie?"

" 'ziraphale is sad. Gonna go be big n make him happy again."

"Crowley sweetheart, I think you being big is what's making him sad."

Crowley looked adorably confused, and let out an articulate "whaaaa?"

Helena put it in the simplest terms she possible could "Crowley, Aziraphale likes it when you're little. He likes taking care of you. When you're gone, he misses you, and it makes him sad."

Crowley nose scrunched up and his unfocused yellow eyes showed no signs of recognition. "But I'mmm groooosss when I'm little. Looookkk!" Crowley cried, wrenching the blankets off himself to show his soaked boxers and bed as if this wasn't something that Helena hadn't already known from the instant she stepped in his bedroom. ( Helena was very familiar with the faint smell of pee coming from the bed. Also Crowley had wrapped all the blankets around him exposing his first wet patch on the opposite side of the bed.) 

Helena resisted the urge to sigh. "Sweetie, I don't think you're disgusting, and neither does Aziraphale." (Dumb as a box of rocks maybe, but not disgusting) She gathered the demon on her lap paying no mind to the dampness that was seeping into her skirts. "How about this. We take care if you for a bit. Just a little while. You know the twins would love to dress you up and give you a bottle and have a cuddle. Then we call Aziraphale so he can see you and know you're alright. Then he can decide if he wants to take care of you or not.(The only person who had any doubt that Aziraphale wouldn't jump at the chance to have his baby back was the baby in question.) And if he doesn't you can stay with us for a while, the twins would just love that. This way Aziraphale won't have any pressure on him to care for you just because no one else will."

That, thought Crowley, made sense. Perfect sense. And when Aziraphale told them he had had enough of Crowley for a while, he could stay with the twins for a little bit untill he felt big again, or they got tired of him, or Aziraphale wanted to be his Papa again. Crowley gave a solemn nod. "Okay"


	78. Chapter 78

Helena carried Crowley over to the bathroom mirror where the twins were peering in, waiting to see if their friend was alright. 

"Edgar, Ellen, sweethearts, would you please go and get some diapering supplies. Don't forget the rash cream. And some blankets and pillows. One of your pacifiers, maybe a plush toy, and two bottles one of warm ginger tea and the other with cold juice. Also some of your clothes that might fit Crowley. Something soft ans comfortable, I think. Also, please tell Jack or Gregor to go and get the Angel Aziraphale if you will. "

The twins nodded. "Is Crowley alright?" "Is Aziraphale going to take him home?" "Are we going to take care of him?" "We'll take really good care of him!" "We won't let him run off and pretend to be big."

Helena smiled. "We're going to take care of him until the angel Aziraphale comes. If the demon Crowley doesn't go back with him, then he will come home with us."

The twins cheered, then scurried off to complete their appointed tasks. Helena sat both herself and Crowley on a dry bit of the bed from somewhere in her many mismatched layers she produced a familiar blankie. Crowley latched on to it and immediately begain sucking on the ribbon fringe. Helena started singing softly to him a rather morbid albeit relaxing tune about a higwayman and his lover who killed herself rather than betray him. It sounded vaguely familiar he thought, as Helena stroked his hair. 

The twins returned with Jack in tow. They all had their arms full off things which they plopped in a great pile in the middle of Crowley's bedroom. He was laid out on a changing mat and divested of his underhsirt and soaked black boxers, which were the only items of clothing he wore. 

It was the first time anyone other than Aziraphale had changed Crowley and Crowley was mortified. It didn't help that the twins stared at his genitalia in a sort of awe (this brought up questions in Crowley's mind about what exactly the demon wraiths had between their legs, but well, it was rather rude to ask.) untill Helena shooed them off to "go and distract the baby from his diaper change."

Crowley thought that there was nothing the twins could do to take his mind off this new humiliation. But they proved him wrong. They sat on either side of him and each held up one hand. A crack stated to form between their outstreched hands, it grew wider and wider until Crowley could see a multicolored swirling galaxy shinning through. He stared at it. It wasn't any of the ones he had created. He knew that deep down in his (formerly) celestial form. Then all at once Crowley realized what was happing. The twins we're doing this. It was an illusion they had created for him, like a mobile, but much cooler. (Crowley did not have the heart to tell the twins that there we're no dismembered eyeballs or random guernsey cows floating in space) 

The illusion worked. Crowley was so caught up watching the galaxy swirl and comets shoot about that before he knew it Helena had finished pinning him up in thick cloth diapers (complete with a thick layering of diaper rash cream on a rather nasty looking diaper rash the demon had acquired) and was pulling up a pair if pink plastic pants with fat little ducks waddling across them. (Crowley might have complained a bit, though he rather did like the ducks, but Helena and the twins we're being so nice to him and he didn't want to seem ungrateful.) 

The twins then took over and attempted to dress him like he was one of their creepy dolls. Keeping in mind Crowley's preferred color scheme, the twins had picked out a big soft black knitted sweater, black and white stripped thigh high socks (that would be more like knee socks on Crowley's gangly legs) and a red skirt, which had fuzzy white bunnies hopping along the bottom edge. 

The twins wrangled the sweater over his head, and with much maneuvering and pulling they got him in it. All arms and head eventually in their appointed holes. Then the pulled up the socks, one twin holding up his thin leg, the other pulling on the sock. Crowley had tried to do it himself, or at leasy help with his own dressing, but the twins had just batted his hands away and told him if he was good and let them do this, there would be lots of cuddles later. Crowley gave up. Cuddles sounded nice anyway. 

The twins fore went the skirt. They came to the mutual decision that they needed to see Crowley's diapers at all times. Since Crowley was, in the twin's opinions, dreadful at knowing both when he had wet himself and asking someone to change his diaper, the twins would just have to do it for him. They would see when he was wet and find someone to change him so his diaper rash could go away and he wouldn't get another one. 

Crowley it should be noted was not particularly pleased with this plan. However, it did save him from the embarrassment of having to ask for his own diaper changed. Which he often just didn't do. Aziraphale usually notice fairly soon anyway. 

Jack picked up Crowley and bounced him on his hip as the twins arranged pillows and blankets in a corner of the bedroom. Jack smelt of formaldehyde had a stupidly large and slightly unsettling grin. He mock wispered in Crowley's ear "If you come and stay with us, Helena hides the sweets, but don't worry I have a stash that im perfectly willing to share with cute babies."

Helena looked up from where she was was fluffing pillows. "I don't hide the sweets from the babies. I had them from you, you twit."

Jack placed the hand that wasn't supporting Crowley's diapered bum on his chest. "Tisk, tisk, tisk," he said in his best impression of someone's offended auntie "such language in front of the children."

Helena gave in and let out a long suffering sigh. The twins giggled. 

Jack turned to Crowley again. "I'm the fun one. Gregor is boring and Helena is mean. (Here he punctuated his sentiment by sticking out his tongue at Helena) I let littles play in my laboratory and conduct experiments with me"

"Poking at dead things all day does not under any way fall the category of science."

"You don't understand my scientific genius!" Jack laid his hand across his forehead dramatically. Which made Crowley give a little smile. (It should be noted that Jack only had the barest idea of what science was. He had read Frankenstein and Herbert West Reanimatior and decided to become a scientist. What Jack belived science to be was stitching together pieces of dead things and trying to make them become alive again. Jack however always failed at this, maybe because he only had the barest idea of what 'alive' meant in the first place.)

Jack plopped down on the blanket with Crowley. Helena sat next to him, and one of the twin's climbed in her lap. Jack placed a pillow down in his lap, and then laid Crowley's head gently down onto the pillow. The twin in Helena's lap produced to bottle of ginger tea, and brought it to Crowley's lips. The demon latched on reflexively. The remaining twin laid beside Crowley, covering them both with a blanket and rubbing the demon's exceedingly sore tummy. 

Crowley nursed his bottle. The twins sucked their pacifiers. They all fell into a comfortable silence. Crowley was warm and comfortable and being fed something that was soothing his achey tummy, things were getting better for the demon now. But he couldn't help but think that the situation would be much improved if Aziraphale was here with them.


	79. Chapter 79

Aziraphale's first reaction to seeing his baby snuggled up in a pile of pillows, blankets, and mirror wraiths was relief. His second was jealousy. Crowley looked so relaxed in the arms of others, when he should be in Aziraphale's arms looking that way. 

Helena extracted herself from the pile of sleeping littles. She picked up and carried the twin that had been on her lap. They opened their eyes and blearily blinked at the angel. Then the twin stuck one of Helena's many braids in their mouth and begin to gnaw on the bead at the end of it. Helena produced a pink pacifier out of somewhere in her skirts and gently removed the now slobbery braid from the twin's mouth and replaced it with the pacifier. 

The twin, still half asleep was then handed off to Gregor, who went over to sit with Jack, Crowley and the other twin. 

Helena took Aziraphale's arm and gently led him to Crowley's living room. (Which was a rather generous term for a room that housed only a television table and throne.) She turned to Aziraphale. "The demon Crowley seems to be under the impression that you had an arrangement that Crowley would only be little and under your care only when he absolutely couldn't be big anymore. I believe the time frame he gave me was a month every five years. (Mirror wraiths had very little concept of time, but Helena instinctivly knew that however much time this would amount to was not enough for Crowley) 

Aziraphale's eyes widened "Why on earth would he think that!? We did have a bit of a trial period to make certain the entire thing would work, but it certainly did. And Crowley was quite happy. He seemed quite happy. And hr agreed that we should continue our relationship as it was! Why would he want to leave?"

Idiots! Helena resisted the urge to bash her head against the wall. Or Aziraphale's. As satisfing as that would be, it would not get her any closer to the ultimate goal of making sure that Aziraphale and Crowley were one again reunited as caregiver and little and both of them knew it. 

Helena gathered herself up and used a more patient and clearer method of speaking than she had ever used on the twins. " Angel Aziraphale, I think that the little demon Crowley will do whatever he thinks you want him do. And in this case he thinks that you are only willing to care for him for short periods of time."

Aziraphale was looking more and more distraught. He was wringing a tartan handkerchief in his hands and pacing. "Oh dear. Oh dear, I thought I was perfectly clear. I know that the poor dear boy has trouble believing that I love him. But I really did think we had understood each other."

Aziraphale dabbed at his eyes. Helena placed a reassuring hand on the angel's arm. "Gregor once told me that things do not change but with time and persistence." Helena paused "I think he read it somewhere. But my point rather is that you cannot expect the demon Crowley to change the way he thinks in so quickly."

Aziraphale sniffed. He had always known more or less what to do in his life. Follow God's orders. Do what was goo, and compassionate, and kind. Often Aziraphale hadn't wanted to do the "right thing" (as dictated by God and/or Gabriel) now all Aziraphale wanted was to do the right thing by Crowley. He just wasn't certain what that was. "What do I do?" He pleaded to Helena. 

Helena patted Aziraphale's arm. "Do not fret so. You have others who care for both you and the little demon Crowley. We will help you. And, " said Helena with a smile "I have an idea."


	80. Chapter 80

Crowley woke up to two notable things. First that his diaper was wet, and that wet cloth diapers felt very different than his wet disposables did. The second was that his angel was standing over him. He began to reach up to make grabby hands at his angel. Quickly though he pulled them back, and muttered a quite "sorry" from behind his pacifier. 

Aziraphale picked the demon up anyway and carried him away from the pile of pillows and sleeping mirror wraiths. He took Crowley to his living room, but miracled up a soft squishy sofa for them instead of sitting on Crowley's throne. (Which was the only available seating in the entirety of the apartment. Crowley had never seen the need to by a second chair as he was the only person who ever came in his apartment.) 

Aziraphale arranged them so that Aziraphale sat on the sofa and Crowley sat on his lap facing the angel. "Now dear, whatever are you sorry for?"

"Not being able to be big like I should be."

Aziraphale stroked the demon's face. "Darling when I asked if you wanted to be big for a bit, I meant it as a question, dear boy, not a suggestion. I fully assumed that you would come back when you felt little for a bottle and a diaper and to go back to being my baby. I was quite lonely when you didn't come back you know. I miss you when you're not there. You are certainly free to go off and do whatever you want when you're big, but you're certainly free to stay with me as well"

"Sorry" Said Crowley again. 

"Darling, I want you to come home with me and be my little. Not for a little while but for ever. Till we turn to dust. If you need or want to be big for a while that's more than fine. I love you when you're big. I love you when you're little. But I don't want you to be big or little just because you think it's what I want dear boy. All I want is for you to be happy and looked after and preferably with me, whatever you are. And I can absolutely never see this happening, but if something ever happenes and I can't or don't wish to care for you for any period of time. Helen said that she, Gregor, Jack, and the twins would be more than happy to look after you for a little while. Now is that alright with you." There, thought Aziraphale, he thought that had covered everything that Helena had mentioned. He'd spoken clearly like she had said to. Made sure he told Crowley that he was loved. He would adress all of Crowley's gnawing insecurities over and over again until they were no longer there to trouble the demon. It wouldn't fix them fot some time of course. But it might be a start. Maybe at the least, Crowley would run off every other day but cause he was convinced Aziraphale didn't want him anymore. 

Of course it was alright with Crowley. It was all he had ever wanted. To be with Aziraphale. Now he was presented with the chance to be with his angel when he was both big and little. Crowley couldn't help but feel it was to good to be true, and that something would happen, probably something he would do to make Aziraphale not want him anymore. But that could be years away. Crowley just clung to Aziraphale and said a simple "yes."

"Now dear boy, would you like to be big or little for a while? Either way you do need a diaper change." He patted Crowley's bottom. 

Crowley looked down and gathered up his courage. (it should be noted there wasn't a particular lot to gather) "I'm little"

Aziraphale kissed Crowley on the nose and scooped him up. "Would you like your diaper changed here, or in the bedroom."

Most of the mirror wraiths had already seen him get diapered before so the demon didn't suppose it mattered. So he muttered into Aziraphale's neck "bedroom" Maybe the twins would show him the galaxy again. It really was, thought Crowley, a neat trick.

The twins we're perfectly happy to distract Crowley again. Until the galaxy that Crowley was watching swirl calming suddenly disappeared as the twins scuttled down to where Aziraphale was changing his diaper. They watched in awe as Aziraphale miracled away the demon's diaper rash. 

Two sets of pale blue eyes stared at the angel. "Aziraphale?" "When we get diaper rashes, will you make them go away for us like that too?" "Please?"

Aziraphale smiled, "Of course, dears."

The twins then nodded, and crawled back to Crowley where they made a game of the demon suggesting different things for the twins to put in their little illusion. They could apparently do other things, make gardens, and forests, alien landscapes, worlds makes of candy appear. They were limited only by their imaginations and concepts that they could grasp. Crowley still like the stars best. 

Crowley was soon powdered and lotioned, and pinned up in fresh dry diapers (borrowed from the diaper bag Helena had had the twins bring) and the ducky plastic pants. The twins fetched the red skirt and helped (or at least tried to help) Aziraphale pull it up the demon's long, long legs and over his diapers. 

Aziraphale turned to Crowley. "Darling, I think is best we go home now. Is that alright with you?"

Aziraphale saw Helena nodding approvingly from across the room. Ask his approval, she had said. Give him small choices and make it clear that he would still be loved no matter what his answer was. 

Crowley nodded. 

"Now dear, would you like the twins, and their caretakers to come with us back to the bookshop?"

Crowley looked at the mirror wraith and back again nervously. 

"It's alright darling, no one will be upset whatever you choose."

"Wan the twins to come too." Crowley mumbled.

The baby was then rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. 

Aziraphale saw Helena smile. It would no doubt be difficult to get Crowley to express any desires of his own free will. Which was quite ironic, if you think about it, that a demon who's forte was desire should be so reticent with his own. But, well, Crowley was always a bit of an odd duck, wasn't he. However with Helena's help he had made a start. Crowley would one day be content, and happy, and sure of himself (or at least sure enough of himself to ask for things small things even, an ice cream, a toy, a cuddle) if it killed him. Aziraphale was determined to undertake this process with all of the care, love and focus he used when repairing one of his beloved books. 

He kissed the demon again, watching as the mirror wraiths gathered up the twins and everything they had brought. Yes, they'd be alrigt in the end, him and Crowley... probably.


	81. Chapter 81

Crowley was back where he belonged. Not in heaven, not in Hell, not in a barren apartment, but a cluttered and slightly dusty bookshop with the angel who loved him. 

He was currently playing with his toy castle with the twins. Aziraphale and the other mirror wraiths made sure they had full sippy cups and dry diapers, and plenty of blankets and pillows to make themselves comfortable on. Then they left the littles to their game and retired with cups of tea (and coffee for Jack, the heathen that he was) for conversation. 

The conversation was mostly about Crowley. Aziraphale half expected the demon to somehow know that they we're speaking of him and burst in with a few choice words in mind, but he never did. Aziraphale spoke about Crowley and the others listened, occasionally interjecting with a question, until they had finished. 

It was Gregor who was usually very quite who made the observation, "Crowley is not two separate entities. Big or little Crowley is still Crowley. And his one desire seems to be to please the one he loves, which is you Aziraphale. He is at his most vulnerable with you because he cares for you, and to care is to make vulnerable. Even more so because he is little."

It rather hit Aziraphale just than, like a wall of hellfire or a swing from a flaming sword, just how much Crowley loved him. How much he always had. How far the demon had always gone out of his way to please Aziraphale. Aziraphale had always fancied himself a being of love, but Crowley, Crowley was truly a creature of boundless love. (At least for Aziraphale) 

Helena brought the Angel out of his mussings. " He rather reminds me of the twins when I first met them."

Aziraphale had never thought of the mirror wraiths having a past. They seemed as if they had simply been always she way they were, and would always continue to be that way. Curious he encourages Helena to continued. 

Apparently Helena had existed floating around her dimension, occasionally popping by to earth. She observed many things over many years, and one day had se had simply decided she wanted to become solid so that she could experience the world as the living did. So she became solid, because it never occurred to her that she couldn't do it. The she wandered around the mirror world for a while before coming to mansion where she now resided. 

The twins we're already there, but not quite as Aziraphale knew them now. Feral, was the word that Helena used. They were solid like ahe was, but they lived there with another mirror wraith who was not nearly as solid as they. Though not quite in the natural translucent state of mirror wraiths either. They called her Mama. Though they thought of her as their mother it seemed that she did not care to care for the twins in the way a mother or caregiver ought to. The twins clamored for the love and affection Mama did not give, even as they did not no quite what it was they wanted. 

Helena had had a string desire to give the twins the care their 'Mama' would not, as she found them to be quite clever and charming when they weren't trying to chew on her leg or attempting to eat the wallpaper. Eventually Helena made a home with the twins, and Mama showed up less and less. Others throughout the years passed through, but only Jack and Gregor stayed. They two enjoyed the comfortable life Heleba had built and caring for the twins. 

"She stills shows up sometimes, dreadfully thing!" As Helena got more agitated the bit of blurting all mirror wraiths had around their edges intensified. "And the twins are so happy to see her and she couldn't care less!"

Gregor laid a hand over Helena's significantly blurrier one. She took a deep breath. "My point is, that Crowley and the twins are all littles who have been hurt in similar ways. It takes time to make a home, to make them understand the way the ought to be loved. And I rather think that the twin's association with the demon Crowley will be good for him, as they have been as he has been."

Aziraphale agreed heartily. He permitted himself to wonder a bit why the universe was so dreadful to wonderful creatures like the twins and Crowley, who as if knowing they had been mentioned came bursting in, dragging Crowley behind them, proclaiming their and Crowley's need for diaper changes. They wiggled into Jack and Helena's laps and Crowley climbed into his. Looking down at the little in his lap, Aziraphale was only more determined than ever to make sure that Crowley was one day as happy and comfortable as the twins had become.


	82. Chapter 82

Aziraphale had discovered online shopping. He had a specific idea of what he wanted and had booted up the ancient (or so said Crowley) computer that Crowley had shown him how to use in many painstaking hours of explanation. He brought up the google dot com and searched. It brought up more results than he had expected, and after a bit of tentative clucking on things Aziraphale discovered that he could actually purchase the item over the interweb! 

The fact that Aziraphale didn't own a credit card and thought that a PayPal was a friend who lent you money didn't stop the angel in the least. He expected it to work and so it did. 

This led to him looking up other items for his darling baby boy. There was such variety, and Crowley would definitely like this, and he most certainly needed some of those, and well those were just adorable weren't they? 

Now standing in the bookshop staring up at the mountain of boxes a delivery man had just placed into his bookshop, he couldn't help but think that he had maybe overdone it a tad. 

Crowley had toddled down to investigate the noise. He was sucking on a paci, and clutching Lenore, and Aziraphale recognized his wet diaper walk. (more of a waddle really) Crowley came up to the angel and eyed the stacks of boxes. He popped the pacifier out of his mouth. "Books?" He guessed. 

"Err... No. It's... Other things."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a shopping addiction I should know about angel?" Crowley was apparently not completely little today. Though he was still clutching to his doll and pacifier, Aziraphale certainly wouldn't mention it. Crowley could be as big or little or whatever mixture of the two he pleased. 

"No, there, err... For you actually." 

Crowley raised both eyebrows this time. "I don't need anything else." He told the angel clutching Lenore tighter to his chest. "And anyway, we haven't even put up my mobile from the last time."

"Ah.. Yes... Been meaning to do that. So I take it you don't want to know what's inside then?"

"I never said that angel!'

Aziraphale smiled. He insisted Crowley have a diaper change first, ignoring the demon's unconvincing whines of "it can wait." Aziraphale could respect most of Crowley's decisions, just not ones that led to diaper rash. 

When his baby was suitably clean and dry, he miracled the boxes into the sitting room. Aziraphale preferred doing many things the human way, but lugging around heavy and awkwardly shaped boxes was not one of them. 

Aziraphale opened two of the larger ones first, and was fathers surprised to see that the contents of both boxes we're in peices, with one lengthy instruction manual per box. (Aziraphale had not bothered to read the part of the item description that said 'some assembly required') Aziraphale got the reading glasses he didn't need, and started in on the first manual. 

Crowley was soon bored. Aziraphale had to be the only being in existence who actually ever bothered to read the instructions, cover to cover even. Crowley wanted to see what was in to other boxes, but figured that his angel would be cross with him if he opened them without him. So Crowley had to think of something else to occupy himself with. Luckily Aziraphale had removed all of the parts of his purchases and was laying them on the floor, which left two large boxes of styrofoam packing peanuts. They weren't really bid enough for a tall gangly demon to play in, but they we're more than big enough for a smallish red and black snake to play in. Crowley snuck a peak at Aziraphale, who's face was comforted in concentration as he tried to figure out the minute differences between screws A and B. (It is large a matter of debate if there was any difference at all) The demon smiled, he doubted Aziraphale would notice at all. 

Aziraphale did in fact notice the sudden absence of Crowley and the sudden presence of a snake writhing around in the cardboard boxes, spreading packing peanuts all over the floor as he happily writhed about. Aziraphale just smiled, and went back to wrestling with his purchases. 

Aziraphale did manage to get the first one complete, with only minimal swearing. He was rather proud of himself, even if maybe in the end one or two miracles were used. 

He found his baby buried in packing peanuts so that only two little yellow eyes could be seen. He picked him up and happily took him over to show him his completed project. 

'No' Crowley thought. 

"No" Crowley said. 

"Why ever not my dear? I'm sure it will be so much more comfortable for you when we go out."

"I'm not a baby."

Aziraphale used ever ounce of angelic willpower he had not to roll his eyes. 

"Oh well then, we can not use it if you don't want to. I did have a special feature added that I thought that maybe you would like. But if you're sure."

"What special feature?" Crowley's interests were peaked. 

"Oh, you'd have to get inside to see dear." 

Crowley looked at stroller. It was black and stylish looking with a cream, black, and red tartan hood. It looked rather nice for a stroller, but Crowley could only think of what a baby he'd look like in it. Aziraphale had bought it for him however, and just one peek inside where there was no one else about couldn't hurt. He became signifantly more human shaped and crawled in. The thing was in a reclining position, so it was more like a pram at the moment than a stroller. 

"Lay back dear." 

Crowley did. It was rather comfortable, nice and dark with some blankets and plushies it wouldn't be a bad napping spot at all. Aziraphale turned down the hood. And suddenly the darkness was lit with a rainbow of colors and stars dancing around the inside of the pram. This thought Crowley, wouldn't be so bad after all, as long as Aziraphale kept the top down so no one could see him. 

He felt the stroller being moved, and well, that really was quite nice thought Crowley drowsily. He gave a jaw dislocating yawn. (Literally, Crowley was a snake after all) It wouldn't hurt too much if he just closed his eyes for a moment. 

A moment turned out to be many moments, and Crowley hardly notices when Aziraphale reached in to give him his pacifier, blankie, snake plushie, and to tuck him in with soft blankets. 

While Aziraphale wasn't sure Crowley would be quite ready to go out in it, he didn't think that the pram would be going anywhere anytime soon.


	83. Chapter 83

Aziraphale had also bought Crowley a black play tent for the bookshop, that was circled by a red playpen. It made Crowley feel like he had his own castle with a wall, keeping him safe from the threats outside. (Though the only real threats in the bookshop we're annoying customers and inconvenient diaper changes) 

He gathered up all of his toys and blankie and placed them in the tent, along with his blankets, pillows, and spare pacifiers. He also made Aziraphale crawl in the play tent with him. If he was gathering up his most precious things to keep safe in the play tent, of course his angel needed to be in there. 

Aziraphale had the idea of also storing some of Crowley's favorite books in the tent as well so Aziraphale and Crowley could cuddle up there together and read. Crowley had just finished his bottle, and Aziraphale had finished the chapter of the Wizard of Oz they were on, when Crowley made a tentative request. 

"Angel?"

The angel in question smiled down at him. "Yes dear?"

"Can the, ummm... If you wouldn't mind... I mean we won't make a mess. Or if we do, we'll clean it right up. And we'll be quite. So can I?"

"Err... Crowley you haven't actually asked me anything yet."

"Oh," This was harder than he had thought. His angel was definitely going to say no anyway. "Can I invite the twins over to play, I wanna show them my playtent?"

"Oh of course!" Aziraphale beamed. 

Crowley scrunched his eyebrows together, he had definitely expected a "no." "Aren't you worried we're gonna be loud and messy?"

"Well I would appreciate it of you didn't touch my books without permission, and didn't break anything on purpose, but I don't see why you shouldn't have your friends over."

The twins were even more thrilled than Crowley at the prospect. Soon the play date morphed into a sleep over. (An odd choice of activity for creatures who did not technically need to sleep.) After the twins and Crowley had ironed out the details of all the things they would do and all the games they would play, Aziraphale sent Crowley to go and play and Helena did the same for the twins. 

Aziraphale looked at Helena, "Are you certain you're alright with letting the twins come over without you."

Helena nodded "I trust you angel Aziraphale to look after them, and if you don't mind I can link a few of your mirror's to our home so that we may travel directly to and from you dwelling."

"Of course"

The twins clambored through the mirror the next day. Both were clad in black floral onesies with pink skirts, a oversized tartan shirt hanging open and a too large purple sweater over that. Pink stripped socks, and rather beat up looking black boots, and necklaces made of what appeared to be doll eyes completed the assemble. 

The both carried identical purple diaper bags, several dolls, and one large suitcase plastered with what looked to bits of various old fashioned looking wall papers. The excitedly scurried over to hug Aziraphale and Crowley. They deposited the luggage in the sitting room and Crowley excitedly showed them his playtent. The twins loved it, exclaiming that it was like a blanket fort you never had to take down. 

They played for a long while in the playtent. The twins apparently could make all sorts of illusions that made playing even more fun once they mad absolutely certain it wouldn't scare Crowley. If the playtent was a ship, the twins could make it seem as if it was really floating on the ocean.   
They could make it seem as if they were in the middle of a jungle or on the moon. It was great fun thought if you touched the water or a leaf, your hand would go straight through, and you would get a bit of a chill up your spine. 

They were between games and just laying in the tent talking when the subject of play parks came up. Apparently the twins had never been to one and wanted to know if Crowley had. They had read about them, and thought the sounded great fun. Crowley shook his head, he hadn't, though he did know that there were little's play parks in London. The twins then decided that they must all go to a play park. 

Crowley wasn't sure he wanted to bother Aziraphale, after all he already had had the twins over, wasn't that enough imposition on his angel for now? But he did want to make his friends happy. 

Aziraphale said "Yes."

Though he did insist in diaper changes all around before they left, and fussed forever over what to take. Should he take all three diaper bags? Just one? Bottles, they surely need bottles. And how cold was it out now? Would they need coats? 

Aziraphale also clipped all of their pacifiers to their clothing. Which the twins didn't mind at all. (Their pacifier clips, like their pacifiers were identical and purple) Crowley's was in the shape of a grey snake, and it somehow felt even more babish than just sucking on the paci. But he had little time to worry about that, or if he should put his dolls in the bag instead of holding them, or if the buldge of his diapers could be seen in his pants, (It could) because the twins were grabbing his hand and dragging him out the door, chattering about how much fun they were going to have.


	84. Chapter 84

The twins got rather quite as they walked through the bustling London streets. Crowley looked at them where they wete walking a bit behind him and Aziraphale and noticed that they were clinging together and looked a bit overwhelmed. 

Crowley realized that it must be rather overwhelming for the twins. All this noise, all these people, in a world that was so unfamiliar to them. He pulled on Aziraphale's sleeve to get the angel's attention. Then he and Aziraphale dropped back and each took one of the twin's hands. 

They were in luck and the little's play park that they visited was largely empty. It was after all a bit of an odd hour for people who didn't have the liberty of having a shop which they could close at anytime because the didn't actually want to sell anything in said shop. Aziraphale was quite glad, as it would be much better for both the self-conscious Crowley and the crowd phobic twins if they had a bit of space to themselves. 

Aziraphale settled down on a bench and fished a book out of the diaper bag. (He had in the end, only brought one, which was Crowley's. Though it had been stuffed far past the limits of any bag not owned by a supernatural entity) The twins, seeming far less overwhelmed now they were off the crowded streets, pulled Crowley towards the slides. 

It was easy for Crowley to forget his embarrassment when he was with the twins. He got so wrapped up in their world, and way of being, in which odd things were perfectly acceptable, that it suddenly didn't matter that his sweater had rode up and you could see the waistband of his diaper. The twins didn't mind. Aziraphale didn't mind. And they were really all the important people. So why should he mind? 

They methodically played their way through the park. They had gotten through the slides, the jungle gym, the seesaw, the merry go round, the spring riders, when the twins made the executive decision they should all go and get their diapers changed before heading to the swings. Crowley of course followed along, he did rather need his diaper changed as well. 

Aziraphale took them one at a time to the changing room set up by the park. Crowley went first, by the twin's insistence. Freshly diapered, Crowley headed over to the swings to wait for Edgar and Ellen. 

He had been having fun. The twins knew all the best and weirdest games to play. And the fact that they could become significantly less solid at will made things like see sawing all the more fun. (And probably slightly more dangerous for the only corporeal being playing) Crowley wasn't feeling at all self conscious as he began swinging happily, waiting for the twins to come to play. 

He tipped his head back as he swung, letting the cool breeze run through his curls. Then his feet made impact with something solid. Crowley skidded to a stop. 

In front of him stood an young baseline, in maybe his early twenties, adorned in a hoodie and track pants, a scowl darkening his face. "Hey freak, I want that swing?"

Crowley turned to look at the five other empty swings beside his. Then at the other swing set a little farther down the park. Then he looked back at the baseline and scowled back. "No. Get your own." 

The baseline's eyes narrowed. "I said I wanted that one."

"And I said no" Crowley popped his pacifier back in his mouth and begin to swing again. Forcing the baseline to either move or be hit with Crowley's combat boot laden feet. 

The baseline chose to move, and went off somewhere. Crowley didn't particular care where. He was just glad to be rid of the weird, rude, and slightly creepy (and not in the semi good way the twins were) personage. 

Crowley smirked at his triumph over evil, well... Over slight annoyance. When he felt a hard push at his back as he swung forwards. This and the motion of the swing caused Crowley to loose his grip on the chains and go flying towards the ground. Right before he found himself splayed on the ground with a mouth full of dirt, two skinned knees, and a broken wrist, he wondered if God had slapped a 'kick me' sign on his back shortly after his creation that he had never noticed. 

The twins who had seen the baseline sneak around and rather violently push Crowley off his swing, were not pleased with this blatant display of demon abuse. They stomped right over to the swing which the baseline was now standing on. "You hurt our friend!"

"YeP" he replied popping the p. "What ya gonna do about it... Freaks?"

The twins shared a look. Then they both scanned the park to make sure that no one else was around. They turned back to the baseline and started to change. Always a bit blurry, they begin to become almost transparent. They grew taller and thinner, their hands and fingers grew impossibly long and mishapen. Their faces lost features and became darkened and contorted grotesque parodies of their former selves. 

The baseline went pale. He fell backwards off the swing with a heavy thud, scrambling backwards in the dirt. A trail of wetness darkened his pantlegs as he made a series of choked garbled noises. The twins made a deep, unholy, reverberating sound in unison and lunged forwards. The baseline scrambled to his feet and was out of the park faster then he'd ever moved in his life. 

The twins turned towards their friend who had stopped sobbing to stare at them. They became signifantly more solid and regained their usual features. They started towards Crowley, intending to help their friend up, but they pulled back unsure. 

They shared a worried look. "Are you frightened of us now?" "We're sorry" "We only meant to scare him, not you" "Do you still want to be friends?"

Crowley who had seen some unpleasant looking things (and demons, for instance Hastur) in Hell, was still a little bit off put by the weird twisted nightmare creatures that were his friend's natural forms. It had frightened him a little, just the teensiest bit, when they had suddenly become something from the Conjuring. But these were his friends. Edgar and Ellen. Who made him his blankie and distracted him so he wouldn't be embarrassed during diaper changes. He had slept cuddled with them in a blanket fort they had built together. Yes they were weird and slightly horrifying, and frankly their true forms made him wet himself, but they were his friends. Good friends, who made sure he was happy and comfortable and loved him as he was. So Crowley could certainly do the same for them. 

He picked himself up, gently holding his hurting wrist, and went over to stand before the twins and gave them a slightly awkward one armed hug. He quietly whispered "thank you" and "love you". Words which he had never before said to anyone but Aziraphale. (That he could remember)

Edgar and Ellen hugged him back. Then gently examined him, asking him where it hurt. Taking note of Crowley's skinned knees and popped snaps on his pants revealing a sagging diaper Crowley had wet on his descent downwards. (And then wet a bit more when his friends had gone ghastly) They were going to go get Aziraphale, but said angel was already quickly making his way towards them.


	85. Chapter 85

Aziraphale had not had a direct line of sight to the swings. There was a large price of play equipment blocking he majority of his view. He began to get suspicious that something was wrong when he thought he heard Crowley's rather unique sobs. 

Obviously being a not completely incompetent caretaker, he rushed over to se what was the matter. He had rounded the play equipment just in time to see his baby on the ground by the swings set sobbing. The twins have some exchange with a young man on the swings. Then a scene straight from a horror film.

Aziraphale hurried to gather up his distraught baby in his arms. He looked him over for injuries and was horrified to find after a cursory examination that in addition to his skinned knees Crowley had a broken wrist. A broken bone! His demon must be in terrible pain. He waisted no time in fixing it. 

The angel had full intentions of reprimanding the twins for showing their true forms in public. However Crowley hastily came to their rescue, and explained everything as Aziraphale was miracling his skinned knees healed. 

Aziraphale did not, in general, approve of using one's supernatural powers to scare the beejesus out of mortals. (Though sometimes it couldn't be helped, the were just such jumpy things) However in this case he fully approved of what the twins had done after what that dreadful delinquent had done to his baby.

The twins got cuddles from the angel. Who was equally grateful to the twins and absolutely agahst that something like that could happen with him so near. He was seriously contemplating sticking Crowley in the stroller every time they went out an not ever letting it out of his sight. Or maybe he'd just carry the demon everywhere. That could work. 

After Crowley was healed he asked around his thumb "Are we gonna go home now?"

Aziraphale was about to say yes, when one of the twins interrupted. "No, we weren't finished playing"

"Maybe in light of what happened.. " Aziraphale started gently, but the other twin interrupted. "That's the whole point!"

"Yea" said the first twin. "He wanted us to stop having fun."

"Err... Yes" Aziraphale conceded still not quite seeing what the littles were getting at. 

"We shouldn't not have fun, just because someone thinks we shouldn't have fun." "That's stupid"

Crowley could sort of see their point. All of his existence he had been made to feel badly about what he was, because other people thought he should. That was, as Edgar and Ellen so eloquently put it 'stupid'. 

"I wanna stay and play" Crowley told Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale looked a but surprised, but aquested. Aziraphale was fairly happy to reward his little demon with anything he asked for if only he asked for it. 

He took Crowley to get changed, bringing the twins along with him. Then they returned to they play park. Aziraphale didn't return to his bench to read, but stayed with the littles. He alternated pushing the three on the swings, then watched (a bit worriedly) as they climbed all over the play equipment. 

Crowley, he noted, was smiling and laughing with the twins as they played. The demon, much to Aziraphale's surprise, seemed alright. It wasn't too long ago when such an event would send his baby into maudlin hysterics. But Crowley seemed to have brushed off the event without much thought. 

Aziraphale gave a watery smile at the direction of his thoughts. Crowley was changing. Not just reinventing himself with a new haircut or new clothes. But really truly changing, deep down, where it mattered. Certainly they had both changed many times over their existences, maybe in far more subtle ways than humans did, but they had changed. Azirphale thought that this new change was one that would benefit Crowley. He might, one day, be able to just be happy as he was. Happy with Aziraphale. Happy together. 

There was a stop on the way home to a toy shop. Where Aziraphale bought the twins matching purple furbies (The twins had adored Crowley's). for being such good friends to his baby. He would later have a teeny bit of buyer's remorse foe this purchase when all three furbies were loudly and obnoxiously chattering to each other. But the twins deserved them.


	86. Chapter 86

Elsewhere a young baseline with rather wet trousers had just run in to his house, slamming the door and locking it behind him, before collapsing in a rather pathetic heap against said door. 

The baseline's mother, who had become irritated with him shortly after he was born and found that irritation to only grow stronger as the years progressed, didn't even bother to look up from the television. "What's wrong with you"

This prompted a lengthy and unbelievable explanation of what had happened at the park. (This explanation omitted the blatant harrasment of littles he had gone to the park to do) Which his mother did not believe one bit until she finally bothered to look up at her offspring. He was horribly pale, literally white as paper. Sweat was pouring off him. His right eye was twitching and his hands we're shaking. 

'Huh' she thought turning back to the TV, maybe there was something to this ghost business after all. She would mention to Margie next time she got her hair done. She knew Margie sometimes took her little to that park.


	87. Chapter 87

As Aziraphale observed three dirt streaked faces back at the bookshop he decided a bath was in order. He had asked the twins and Crowley if they wanted seperate baths, but the twins decided that they much rather all bathe together so they could play in the bath with Crowley. 

Crowley who had lived through periods of human history in which public bath houses we're the norm was un bothered by this decision. 

The twins, as it turns out, we're very anatomically incorrect. They looked like dolls when their clothes were removed. They had no hair on their bodies, (which was the usual for littles) no nipples, (which was not the usual for anyone, and Crowley rather wondered if Sargent Shadwell's nipple obsession stemed from once meeting a mirror wraith.) and absolutely no genitalia whatsoever. Between their legs was a smooth umblemish expanse of pale skin. Crowley only imagined there was some sort of small holes somewhere for excretion purposes. 

As soon as Aziraphale plopped Crowley in the bath, he reflexivly brought out his wings, and it was the twin's turn to stare. They clamored towards the demon babbling "So awesome!" "Can we touch them?" "What do they feel like?" Can you move them?" "Can you fly?" "Does Aziraphale have them too?"

Crowley hunkered back a bit. Though willing to show Aziraphale now, he was still a bit self conscious of his wings. Not wanting to make his friends cross with him, he nodded that they could touch. The twins touched them with such reverence, like they were something precious. The twins had even more reverence for them when the found that flapping them produced huge splashing waves in the large tub. (Now large enough to very comfortably fit Crowley, his wings, and two anatomically incorrect twins) 

In very short order, the entirety of the bathroom was soaking wet. Aziraphale was rather glad that this was the only room of his whole bookshop and adjoining flat that he had chosen not to store books in. He managed to somehow get soap on all of them, shampoo and conditioner was a bit more difficult, the twins were much more squirmy than Crowley, (ironic, considering Crowley was a literal snake) and seemed terribly afraid that Aziraphale would get shampoo in their eyes. 

Crowley went first to show the twins that Aziraphale would be very careful. And they stopped trying to wriggle away from the angel. 

Once everyone was out of the bath and diapered, Aziraphale got to work on putting them in their pajamas. Black footie pajamas covered in sparking silver stars for Crowley and purple lace trimmed night shirts for the twins with soft blue socks. 

Aziraphale sat on the sofa and Crowley sat in Aziraphale. The little demon nursed his bottle. The twins snuggled up to each side of the angel, happily nursing their own bottles. Aziraphale read them all a bedtime story as they cuddled. 

One the story had reached it's end and the bottles were empty, Aziraphale changed diapers one last time and the three littles crawled into the playtent amid a mountain of pillows and blankets and plush toys. They all had their pacifiers firmly lodhed in their mouths and were snuggling their plushies and blankies. (The twin's blankies had dead eyed doll heads sewn in the middle of them that rattled when you shook them, because apparently the twins owned nothing that wasn't absurdly creepy and/or disturbing.) 

Aziraphale tucked them all in, placing gentle kisses to each forehead. He sat on the sofa watching the pile sleeping littles. The angel had already made the decision to stay up all night, close by, in case one of them needed something. 

Aziraphale worried about Crowley. He worried that he had done the wrong thing. He had always known that Crowley was rather soft underneath all the demonic wiles, fashionable black outfits, and trendy haircuts. He just hadn't realized how soft he really was. Aziraphale thought that breaking down the walls Crowley had (metaphorically) built around himself would be a good thing. It didn't occur to him that there was a very good reason Crowley had constructed them in the first place. That when stripped so thoroughly of his defenses he would become so terribly, achingly vulnerable. And vulnerability attracted predators. 

He worried a little less after today. Crowley was growing a bit of self respect, and in the gaps of vulnerability that were still left he had friends, and Aziraphale, to make certain he was and would be alright. 

Aziraphale still worried of course, he would always worry. Terrible things could and would still happen, and they seemed to happen to his little demon with a frequency that was quite frankly alarming. But Crowley was becoming better equipped to handle the terrible things, and maybe with a little help, even be somewhat alright after they were over and done with. 

Aziraphale had to believe that every bad thing that happened would end with Crowley being alright. If it didn't than Aziraphale would march straight up to heaven and fight God himself. It didn't matter that it was a suicide mission. If Crowley wasn't in the world, it would no longer be a world in which Aziraphale wanted to live in. No angel, no other demon, no human could ever be to him again what Crowley was to him now. (All of Aziraphale's copies of the classic romances were well read.While 'soft'was a very accurate term for the angel, 'soppy' was also equally as accurate) 

Aziraphale opened his very old, and rather boring novel, miracled himself a cup of rich cocoa and prepared to watch over his baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have acquired a shiny new beta in the form of littlebird20, so you may notice a lack of glaringly obvious typos from now on.


	88. Chapter 88

The next morning, the twins were packed up and taken home. (Aziraphale had received a bit of a scolding from Helena for taking the twins out in the bustling London crowds. Then he received praise for doing it so well. As the twins, who like most mirror wraiths, were quite adverse to large noisy groups of humans, were not ill affected in the slightest.) 

A few days after the twins return to their natural habitat, Crowley was big. Actually big this time, not just pretending, or wishing really hard, or acting big until he somehow miraculously became big and stayed that way forever. 

Crowley wore his tight black pants (which Aziraphale half-wondered if he had painted on) and a cozy red sweater. He did concede to a pull-up, in order to save Aziraphale's sofa and floors a rather unnecessary soiling. 

They took this opportunity to move - or rather, miracle, (as there was absolutely no manual labor involved in the process) the rest of Crowley's possessions to Aziraphale's bookshop. 

Crowley's possessions were mostly various pieces of art, one dreadfully gaudy throne (which Aziraphale refused to refer to as art), a bit of furniture, a vast collcetion of musical recordings -complete with the various devices on which to play them- and, surprisingly enough, a small collection of astronomy books. 

Aziraphale did a great deal of pointless protesting about a certain statue in the demon's possession. Of course Aziraphale would let the dreadful, distasteful thing in his bookshop in the end, as it was something of his demon's and his demon deserved to have everything he ever wanted. (Even it what he wanted offended the majority of Aziraphale's sensibilities.) He just also felt the need to make sure Crowley knew exactly what he thought of it. 

Crowley kept the now even emptier apartment. It made him feel better to have someplace to go in case of an emergency. It wasn't as though anyone was going to be bothered about it anyway, as the apartment didn't, in fact, exist to most people's knowledge. 

It felt so right, them being together and living together, that Aziraphale wondered why they hadn't done it sooner. Then he remembered their attempted executions by both Heaven and Hell, and thought that not moving in together until now had probably been for the best. 

They had dinner at the Ritz to celebrate. Aziraphale ate his dinner, and most of Crowley's, while they both drank to excess. It was just like old times. They stumbled back to the bookshop and clumsily made their way to the sitting room. 

Aziraphale sat down on the sofa and fully expected that Crowley would come to sit with him. Crowley, however, sprawled himself over the chair. 

Oh well.... That was alright, thought Aziraphale. Maybe Crowley was a bit warm - flushed by the massive quantities of alcohol he'd just consumed - and didn't want to be cuddled up to another warm body for fear of overheating. Or maybe Crowley just fancied a little space at the moment. 

They eventually sobered up a bit and came to the mutual agreement that they should go to bed. Aziraphale was rather looking forward to crawling into bed and having his first cuddle of the day with his demon.

Aziraphale miracled his tartan night shirt on, keeping an eye on Crowley as the demon rummaged around the closet, just in case he needed any help with dressing or undressing. Crowley had been big all day, and seemed to still be now, but Aziraphale hadn't yet learned all of the different little tells that would inform him on what point on the spectrum of 'Very Big Crowley to Very Little Baby Crowley' his demon was. 

Also, even when he was big, Crowley's control over his gangly limbs was less than impressive. The demon was rather floppy at the best of times, a side effect of being a snake Aziraphale supposed. 

But Crowley, apparently not finding what he was looking for, just miracled on a pair of plain black pajama shorts and a black tank top. Then he left the room. 

Aziraphale simply assumed the demon had gone to get a glass of water or something like that, and crawled into bed himself. He, of course, read while he waited. 

About 25 pages in, Aziraphale got a tad concerned. He got up, took off his reading glasses, and went demon hunting; which was a far less dramatic endeavor than it sounded. After some searching, he found his demon sleeping in the bed from his old apartment. The bed had been moved into a spare room that had not previously existed untill today. But Aziraphale's shop had always been very accommodating to whatever he had brought into it. 

This, thought Aziraphale, was fine. It was absolutely alright if Crowley wanted to spend the night in...separate accommodations. Aziraphale didn't feel oddly betrayed and unwanted at all. It was all fine, all absolutely tickety-boo. 

Aziraphale would just go and sleep in his own bed. Alone. He'd have plenty of time to read that way. No demon to squish him, or hog the covers, or shove bony knees and elbows into his soft bits. Yes, Aziraphale convinced himself, it would be absolutely grand to have a night to himself. Just him. In his big bed. All alone. 


	89. Chapter 89

There was a line in the sand. Not literal sand, of course. Crowley didn't like sand too much. It always managed to migrate into the strangest and most uncomfortable places. A metaphorical line in the sand...the sand that didn't exist. 

One line separating him as a Little from him when he was Big. The rules that applied to the two Crowleys were very different. 

Little Crowley could have cuddles. He could be messy and needy, and Aziraphale would just smile and take care of him. Little Crowley could comfort himself by sucking on his thumb, or a pacifier, or the fringe of his blankie. Little Crowley could play with toys and snuggle with plushies. Little Crowley could also just walk up to the angel, plop in his lap, and demand cuddles and kisses.

Big Crowley could do exactly none of those things. It wasn't like Big Crowley wanted to anyway. Even though occasionally he thought it might be nice to have something to hold while watching TV. And once in a while he found his thumb wandering it's way up to his mouth. Crowley always swiftly shoved his errant thumb into his pocket as soon as he noticed it. Big Crowley didn't do that. Big Crowley didn't need to do that. He didn't need any of it. He could do other equally good things. He could drive the Bentley. He could pay taxes. 

(Crowley had never paid taxes in the entirety of his existence. If he was being truthful, he wasn't entirely sure what they were. Only that a lot of maths were involved, and maths were an evil far beyond anything Crowley had ever dreamed up.) 

He could take Aziraphale out to dinner. 

That last one was very important. Crowley liked the way things had been between them before. Not the looming threat of both their sides finding out and enacting swift and brutal punishments upon them, but the other stuff. The meetings, and the drinking, and the dinners. He didn't want to lose all that. He wanted to both be Aziraphale's baby and his equal. He wanted to be able to take care of the angel like he used to. Aziraphale, after all, took such good care of him. A little break from Crowley's clinging and a nice dinner was the least Aziraphale deserved. 

Though Crowley was finding the whole thing a bit difficult. It seemed now that Little him had had a taste of real love and comfort, Big him wanted it as well. 

Days when Crowley was Big were a teensy bit difficult for the demon. When he went to bed Big, he almost always had nightmares. Crowley suspected it was the lack of any of his comfort items. His pacifier, his blankie, his plushies, his angel. He always wet the bed, his pull-ups having leaked sometime in the night. He thought about wearing diapers, but somehow the idea had firmly lodged itself in his mind that only Little Crowley should have diapers as well. 

After spending a good few minutes in the early morning shaking and crying, or trying not to shake and cry, Crowley managed to get himself out of bed. He miracled away his nighttime accident. He got dressed. He made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast for his angel. 

Crowley always insisted on taking care of all meals when he was Big. It made him feel like he was contributing something to their relationship. Though mostly they went out to eat, as Crowley wasn't a particularly good cook and breakfast food was about all he could manage. 

The days did tend to get better from there. It would be like old times again. They would often spend Crowley's Big days out. Taking walks in the park, dining at restaurants, going to see shows and plays, going for drives in the Bentley. It was all quite lovely. Crowley had even once almost held Aziraphale's hand. He had pulled back at the last minute, afraid that Aziraphale wouldn't like his clinging when he was Big and should be beyond such things. 

Eventually, Crowley would start to feel Little again. Then he could climb into his angel's lap and have the cuddles and plushies that he definitely hadn't missed when he was Big. 

Crowley was rather pleased with himself for being able to strike up such a balanced balance of Big and Little. Crowley was happy, well happier than he had ever been. His angel seemed happy. Maybe things had worked out after all, Crowley thought, staring at his angel who was sitting on the sofa across the room absorbed in some dusty old tome. 

Aziraphale looked up and gave a little smile the demon's way. Yes, thought Crowley, things were working out perfectly well


	90. Chapter 90

Crowley's behavior was begining to worry Aziraphale. And my, wasn't that becoming a reoccurring theme. He knew, of course, that Crowley would want to be Big, or sometimes just feel less Little than other times. He had never had a Little of his own, but he had minded countless others over the centuries. Littles tended to be the same person, with the same level of affection and largely the same tastes as when they were Big. Often, habits and comforts would carry over from being Little to being Big. It wasn't uncommon for a Little to be seen sucking on a pacifier or carrying around a plush animal or doll even when they were in their Big headspace. This knowledge made Crowley's recent behavior all the more baffling. 

It had begun with Crowley's notable lack of affection towards the angel when he was Big. Crowley was an extremely affectionate baby. So when he was Big the utter lack of physical contact or 'I love yous' was rather jarring to the angel, to say the least. 

Hugging hadn't been something that was done in Heaven for a long while now. Even in the beginning, when angels had done such things, Aziraphale hadn't been close enough with any of them to partake in such a thing. Then a human had done it - hugged him - and Aziraphale had melted into a big puddle of angel in the Little's arms. Aziraphale had found it to be even better when a certain demon did it. Now that he had been spoiled with constant affection, going back to none felt quite distressing. 

Aziraphale at first assumed that Crowley must simply not like being touched when he was Big. That was a tad unusual, but fine. It wasn't fine, however - in Aziraphale's opinion - when in handing the demon a wine glass and accidentally brushing fingers, the demon shot back as if Aziraphale's touch had been painful to him. He then grabbed his wine glass and skittered to the opposite side of the room, leaving a vast gaping distance between them and Aziraphale's heart somewhere in the region of his shoes. 

The angel noted other peculiarities about Big Crowley as well. Such as his avoidance of all of his beloved toys. It wasn't as if he just didn't feel like playing with them at the moment. Crowley wouldn't even look at them, or acknowledge their existence. It was very bizarre to see the demon sitting next to his cherished dolls and watching him look absolutely anywhere but at them. 

Crowley also never said that he loved Aziraphale when he was Big. Which bothered Aziraphale endlessly. 

He was beginning to suspect that some ridiculous idea was churning in his demon’s mind. Aziraphale was not going to stand for this sort of nonsense again. He wasn't going to sit or lie down for it either. 

Whatever was going on in Crowley's head would be divuldged and promptly sorted out before Aziraphale ended up chasing a wayward demon through London again. He had had quite enough of that for an existence, thank you very much. 

He asked his demon several times if something was wrong or if there was something he would like to talk about. Every time, Crowley simply gave Aziraphale a baffled look and said, “Of course not angel...Is there something wrong with you?"

Aziraphale decided that more serious methods would have to be employed if he was going to get anything out of Crowley. Subtlety was a must, (though it wasn't strictly speaking, Aziraphale's strong suit) getting a straight answer from the demon when he had made up his mind not to divulge something was akin to pulling hen's teeth. 

He went to the bathroom mirror and called for reinforcements.


	91. Chapter 91

The mirror wraiths agreed that Crowley's behavior was highly suspect. Since all attempts to talk to Crowley and discuss the matter as if he was a normal, reasonable person had failed, they would have to get a bit more creative. 

The twins were called, informed of the matter, and a plan was made. 

Aziraphale walked downstairs to find Crowley splayed over the sofa playing a game on his phone, judging by the obnoxious music and sound effects emanating from said device. He was lying on his belly, like the snake he was, and his Queen shirt had ridden up to expose the waistband of his pull-up. If Crowley was Little, Aziraphale would have simply gone over and pulled down the hem of his shirt, knowing how Crowley felt about his diapers showing. But if he did that now, it was highly likely the demon would jump through the roof. 

Aziraphale just gave a sigh and sat on the chair across from the sofa. "Crowley, darling, I was just talking to the mirror wraiths and wondered if you wouldn't like a play date with Edgar and Ellen tonight?"

Crowley looked up from his brightly colored screen. "I'm Biggg angel," he whined. "I can't have a playdate."

"Aahh, of course. More of a movie date then? The twins mentioned to me the newest film they've seen was... Ah.. 'Psychic' I believe by that fellow Hotchcock."

"Hitchcock, angel, it's Hitchcock! And it's 'Psycho' not 'Psychic'! The twins like horror movies?" He paused and made a face at himself. "Silly question. Tell them to come right over. I'll show them way better than ‘Psycho.’ Do they even know that films come in color?"

"Oh, I don't think so," replied Aziraphale, who was getting up to go back and inform the twins.

"Aziraphale?" Came Crowley's small sounding voice. "Will the twins be Big too?"

"Yes, I believe they will."

Crowley turned back to his game looking thoughtful. 

As promised, the twins bounded through the mirror later that day. Big twins did not dress much differently than Little twins apparently. They both wore identical grayish pink oversized sweater dresses, black and grey stripped leggings, and black boots. This was accented with grey bows in their curly hair, and necklaces that appeared to be made out of small, real bones. They also carried their purple diaper bags. 

They plopped down on the sofa, making themselves comfortable in the pile of blankets Aziraphale had put out for their movie night. (Aziraphale himself would not be joining them, horror was not quite to Aziraphale's tastes.)

Crowley eyed the twins suspiciously as they brought out a couple of dolls to cuddle during the film. "I thought you were Big." 

The twins rolled their eyes in perfect sync. "We are."

Crowley gestured towards the dolls. "You have dolls,” he said, which prompted another eye roll from the twins. 

"We know," one said, speaking very slowly and clearly the way one might to a particularly slow toddler. "We like dolls,” said the other in the exact same tone. 

"You're Big,” the demon said pointedly. “You're not supposed to have dollies,” Crowley said, wildly gesturing around with the remote. 

Apparently, thought the twins, getting to the root of Crowley's behavior would be far easier than they had thought. And Aziraphale made it seem like dealing with Crowley was hard. 

"Why not?" "Yes, we like dolls. We like them when we're Little and we like them when we're Big." "We don't stop liking the things we like just because we're Big or Little.”

Crowley flopped dramatically back on the sofa. "Well, I don't want to be a baby all the time,” Crowley sniffed. 

"Playing with dolls, or wanting a cuddle, or having a paci doesn't make you a baby, Crowley. We like doing other things when we're big too." "Like taxidermy, archery, knife juggling, reading."

Crowley wasn't surprised at any of those hobbies, but he was still feeling like a petulant little brat tonight, even though he was technically Big. He put on his most impressive sneer. (Which wasn't very impressive at all.) "Don't the others ever get tired of your clinging?"

Four pale blue eyes bored into his soul. (Crowley wasn't sure if he technically had one, but if he did that's where they were boring.) He felt the immediate urge to squeak out a "sorry.”

"We're not clingy." "We're affectionate" "Caregivers like to be cuddled too.” One of the twins went in for a bit of a low blow. "Wouldn't Aziraphale be sad if you just suddenly stopped ever wanting to cuddle?"

Crowley didn't have anything more to say. He just hunkered into the chair and started the movie. They did end up havig a rather good time. Apparently they all found human's concepts of horror ridiculously funny. Aziraphale could hear their bellows of laughter from upstairs. 

Two films into the night and Crowley found his thumb slipping into his mouth. He looked over to the twins. One was chewing on a teether and the other was offering their doll a slice of pepperoni pizza. (It really wouldn't surprise Crowley at this point if the doll took a bite.) It really wouldn't hurt, maybe just this one time, to suck his thumb when he was Big. The twins certainly wouldn't mind, and he was cozy and wanted the comforting weight of something in his mouth. 

By the middle of the third film, Crowley was asleep. One twin elbowed the other and pointed towards the sleeping demon. They found the remote and paused the film. Crowley had shown them how when the pizza had come. They then made their way upstairs. 

They found Aziraphale hunched over some ancient tome, decorative spectacles perched on his nose, gloves on his hands. The twins, being the tactful creatures that they were put their thoughts in the most delicate way they knew how. 

"You're an idiot.”


	92. Chapter 92

"You're an idiot." "And Crowley's an idiot." "He's our friend, and we love him, but he's an idiot." "We love you too, but you're also an idiot." "A very idiotic idiot." "Also, we're really wet and need a diaper change."

One twin nudged the other. "We probably should have asked for the diaper change before we called him an idiot." 

The nudged twin nodded in agreement. "We might be changing ourselves."

Aziraphale wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He settled on slightly cross and a bit curious. "Errr, dear boy...gir...Er dear twins, how exactly am I an idiot?"

Another sycronized eye roll from the twins. "You never say anything to Crowley!"

"That's not true, we talk all the time."

"Noooo, you never say anything important!" "Crowley thinks you don't like cuddles." "Or that you don't want cuddles when he's Big. We're not sure."

"I don't want to push Crowley into doing anything he doesn't want to do...”

The twins cut him off with a strangled frustrated noise made in unison. "He's doing things he doesn't want to now!" "He just does whatever it is he thinks you want and since you won't tell him, it's usually highly inaccurate!" "Then you’re sad. Then he's sad that you’re sad." "Just tell him what you want and ask what he wants."

It sounded so simple the way the twins said it. Crowley not hugging him because he thought that was what he wanted. Of course, Aziraphale had never told him otherwise. Crowley really did go too fast for him sometimes. Not just physically, but the way he thought. The way his mind jumped to (usually wrong) conclusions so quickly. 

"Talk to Crowley.” “We're going home, we're sleepy.” “Also, Crowley's diaper leaked and he wet your sofa." “Oh, and tell Crowley to call us when he wants to finish the movie."

Aziraphale gave the twins a smile. They did mean well. (Usually.) Maybe being called an idiot was occasionally what he needed. "Would you like a change first?"

The twins nodded. Once he got them changed, and packed up, and back through the mirror. He went to find his demon. 

Crowley had indeed wet through his pull-up. Aziraphale miracled the mess away. He lifted the demon up and carried him to bed. He miracled a diaper and some cozy pajamas that were neither particularly Big or Little - a black long sleeve top, red tartan bottoms, and black fuzzy socks - on the demon. He tucked him into bed, replacing his thumb with a pacifier. He kissed the demon's forehead. 

Aziraphale supposed he had just expected Big Crowley to understand things without having them said to him. He wasn't sure why he had expected Big and Little Crowley to behave differently. They were the same person, and as it turned out, needed things explained to them in the exact same way. 

Aziraphale shook his head, feeling a bit cross with himself. He'd just have to do with Big Crowley exactly what he did with Little Crowley, have a sit down. Make sure Crowley knew that no matter what he chose Aziraphale loved him. Talk about what ridiculous misconceptions the demon had cooked up in his head and inform him of how wrong he was. Then maybe inform Crowley that he did indeed like cuddles from Crowley very much. It didn’t matter if they were from Big Crowley or Little Crowley, and that he missed them very much when Crowley choose not to give them to him.


	93. Chapter 93

Crowley rubbed his eyes. "Whaaa?” He said, intelligently. He looked at Aziraphale. "Where are the twins?"

"They went home last night dear, when you fell asleep."

"I didn't fall asleep. I was resting my eyes."

"Ahhh yes then. My mistake. They went home while you were resting your eyes."

Crowley hissed at the angel's dripping sarcasm. 

"Now how about we get you some breakfast?"

"Mmm not Little, I don't need breakfast."

"Well, I'm going to have breakfast. While you are certainly free to do whatever you please, I would like it very much if you'd join me."

Aziraphale got up and began walking towards the kitchen. There was a pause, then the sound of a demon scrambling to catch up with him. 

"I'll make breakfast, angel.”

"That would be lovely, Crowley dear."

They had a nice breakfast. Crowley could do wonderful things with eggs. When they had finished, Aziraphale led Crowley to sit on the sofa with him. 

"Crowley dear, I would like to talk.”

Crowley groaned and shifted uncomfortably. (Aziraphale wasn't sure if the uncomfortable shifting was due to the idea of talking or the fact that the demon was still in his extremely wet night diaper.) "We've talked about everything, angel. What could there possibly be left to talk about now?"

"I don't like it when you sleep in the other room."

Crowley stopped his fidgeting, surprised. 

"You don't?”

"No, I don't. I also don't particularly like the way you won't touch me when you're Big. I miss you, Crowley. I know it's a bit silly as you're still here, but I, well...I do miss you. I want to sleep next to you always. When you’re Big or Little or anything in between. And I like when you hug me or hold my hand. I don't like that you being Big seems to mean that you don't love me."

Crowley's eyes widened. He leaped on Aziraphale, his diaper giving a squish as he landed in the angel’s lap. "I love you, I do, angel! I'm sorry,” he cried into Aziraphale's shoulder. Aziraphale patted the demon's back. 

"Darling boy, do you like sleeping in separate beds when you're Big, or do you do it because you think I like it?"

Crowley looked bit shifty. "I thought when I was Big, it should be like it was before between us,” he mumbled. 

"Ah...Well I certainly don't want it to be like before. It will be in some ways. I think we should keep the good bits. But we've addeded so many more good things to our relationship, Crowley." Here the angel got a rather soppy look on his face that made Crowley grimace and his heart flutter simultaneously. "After all, before I couldn't do this." Aziraphale then proceeded to kiss Crowley's face over and over untill the demon gently pushed him back. 

They were both silent for a moment. Crowley opened his mouth, then closed it again. The process repeated a few more times making the demon closely resemble a fish. 

The trouble with saying things, important things, is that you couldn't unsay them. 

"I don't want you to think less of me."

"Whatever do you mean dear?" Aziraphale stroked red curls out of his baby's face. 

"Sometimes I do Little things when I'm Big. Like suck my thumb or have my blankie. I don't always want you to think of me as a baby."

"Crowley, you are a baby. My baby." Crowley's head dropped, but Aziraphale gently tipped his chin up again. "But that doesn't mean I think any less of you, you silly old serpent. Liking those things when you’re Big doesn't make you any less Big. Or any less the demon who saved me from Nazis, or did that terrible thing you did to the M25, or stopped the Apocalypse. Well...helped stop the Apocalypse. Well...was there when the Apocalypse was stopped. But I digress, where was I? Oh yes, I happen to like the ‘Adventures of Winnie the Pooh,’ and you don't think less of me for that, do you?”

Crowley shook his head. Winnie the Pooh, no. Bad magic tricks, yes. (He had seriously contemplated burning that book of coin tricks when Aziraphale had first gotten it and relentlessly attempted them all with the demon as a semi-captive audience.)

"Well then, I shan't think any less of you for any of the things you like. Now if there is something you want, or don't want, when you’re Big or Little, I would like you to tell me, and we can discuss it. And I shall do the same. Words. Communication. Those things, I think, we probably should try them on a more regular basis. I really don't want to loose you darling, especially to our own stupidity."

Crowley bristled a little at being called stupid. But as Aziraphale had admitted he was equally stupid, Crowley figured it was alright. He probably could ask. Aziraphale had told him to ask. His angel might say no, but he'd probably do it nicely. Probably. 

"IwantyoutochangemydiaperswhenI'mBig.”

Aziraphale blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that dear boy?"

Crowley's blush spread to his hairline. He contemplated the nearest window suitable for jumping out purposes. "I want you to change my diapers when I'm Big. It makes me feel safe, and warm, and cozy,” the demon hurried to explain, looking anywhere but at his angel. 

"Oh Crowley."

Crowley definitely shouldn't have said anything. Was it too late to jump out the window?

"Of course I will darling!" Aziraphale rewarded Crowley with a tight hug and many kisses. 

He made Crowley feel safe. He, Aziraphale, did that. It made his eyes go misty. Crowley was so good, underneath it all. He had not just thought that things were a bit wrong, but done something about it. Certainly he reveled in making people a bit miserable, slightly irritating them, and causing a bit of low grade chaos, but when it really came down to it, Crowley was kind.

He saved children from the great flood. (To defy God.) Posed as a witchfinder in order to clear women accused of witchcraft and save them from the pyre. (To foil the plans of the church.) Gave homeless people money on the street. (In the hopes they would spend it on alcohol or drugs and encourage sin, of course.) 

Aziraphale often wondered how he, who was infinitely less loving and more selfish than Crowley, had remained when Crowley had fallen. If he had done one really good, worthwhile thing on his own merit it was to make this strange and loving creature feel safe. 

Crowley reached up a hand to gently brush a tear away that was making it's way down the angel’s cheek. 

"You're crying, angel."

Aziraphale smiled down at the demon. "Yes, I'm just so very happy my dear.”


	94. Chapter 94

Crowley felt good. He felt better than good. He had been out on the town that night, making mischief, encouraging bad eating habits and drunken tattoos. A somewhat wet pull-up - warm between his legs - reminded him that he was going home to his angel, and cuddles, and his angel's stupid milky tea that he definitely didn't like. Or maybe wine if he was still feeling Big. 

He was walking along the street, whistling to himself, when he caught a flash of smoky gray hair in a park. This would have been largely unremarkable if he had not clearly seen a crown perched atop said hair, and experienced an unmistakable feeling of dread that accompanied the sighting. 

It couldn't be...

It probably was. 

Crowley crept closer. He hid behind a tree to watch. 

Pollution, whose full name was Pollution and Pestilence, but was often called Pollution for short, was up-ending trash cans all over the park. (It was, Crowley noted by chance, the play park where he and the twins had played not too long ago.) Pestilence paused, back to the tree that sheltered the demon, and a monotone voice rang out. "I know you're there. You might as well come out and help me."

Crowley’s pull-up grew significantly warmer and wetter. Oh well, he thought, as he slunk out from behind the tree. It could have been worse. It could have been Death or War. He wasn't particularly keen on Famine either, who last Crowley had heard was busying himself running pro-anorexia websites.

Crowley reluctantly tromped over and began spreading the contents of the bag of garbage Pollution thrust into his hands around the park. As a demon, Crowley should probably like to litter more than he did. As it was, he had always cared (though he would deny it to his discorperation) about the plants and the green growing things too much to ever be a very good litterbug. 

Once they were done Crowley stood awkwardly in the middle of the play park that currently looked like it had been hit with a very localized tornado. Pollution sat down in one of the swings and gestured with a lazy glare for Crowley to sit down in the swing next to her. 

Crowley felt his pull-up squish and it was no longer a reminder of the loving angel he had waiting for him at home, but a potential for crippling embarrassment. 

He didn't know the horsemen well, he had always avoided them at all costs. He knew firsthand, however, the suffering they could bring. 

Pollution brought out some food from the pocket of her large, shapeless gray hoodie. It was the kind you could buy at any gas station, wrapped in layers of plastic and stuffed with preservatives. She offered some of it to Crowley. 

Crowley wasn't particularly hungry. He had also had been largely spoiled by his angel's idea of good food, which most definitely did not include soggy, plastic-wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches and copious packets of slightly hard gummy worms. 

Crowley took the offered food anyway. He didn't think that offending Pollution and Pestilence was necessarily a smart thing to do. 

He nibbled on a stick of beef jerky as Pestilence tore into a packet of Sour Patch Kids. 

"Err...So what are you up to these days? Now that you're retired?"

A pair of cloudy eyes gazed up at the demon in confusion. "Spreading pollution and pestilence."

"Oh, I thought you might just...You know, take up a hobby now? I mean now that you don't technically have to spread disease and destruction?"

Pollution brighted up, a odd half-lopsided smile spread across her face. "I do have hobbies! See."

Pollution thrust her phone at him, bringing up images of garbage island, asking Crowley, “Isn't it magnificent?" And showing him several anti-vaccine Facebook pages that she had started. 

Crowley felt a bit of pity stirring inside him for her and for War and Famine and Death, too. While angels, humans, and demons would always largely remain what they were created to be. They did have some ability to grow and change within those god-given limitations. The Horsemen didn't. Ever fiber of what they were, every waking hour (which was all of them, as none of the horsemen slept) was spent fulfilling the singular purpose that god had given them. They could conceive of nothing else beyond that. What, Crowley thought, a dreadfully tedious and dull existence to be so stagnant. 

They finished their food (using the term in the loosest possible manner) and pitched the trash on the ground. They both stood up and Crowley rather hoped that this would be the end of his visit with Pollution and Pestilence. But, because he was Crowley, things obviously didn't go his way. But the hem of his sweater got caught in the bit that connected the swing to the chain. 

As he was fussing with that, trying to get the sweater that his angel had gotten for him undone without any damage, he didn't realize quite how far he was pulling up his sweater. His thin tummy was exposed along with the waistband of his pull-up. There was no mistaking it for anything else. No one made Little’s products to be discreet, because no one thought there was any need to. 

When Crowley had finished freeing his sweater from the evil swing chain, he looked up to find that Pollution was staring at him with a grin that sent shivers down the demon's too long spine. 

"Wait here.”

Crowley did. He wasn't sure if it was the smart thing to do, but it was the thing he did. 

Pollution walked off in the direction of the changing station and came back with a bag that was emitting an unpleasant odor. Pollution then ripped it open and began spreading soiled diapers on the park ground. Crowley held his nose, feeling a little nauseous. When Pollution was done, the smell not seeming to bother her at all, she turned to Crowley smiling even wider. "They take forever to biodegrade."

And that was it. Pollution and the demon parted ways. It could have been worse, for the demon, not the park. Crowley waited a while untill he thought Pollution was gone. He was going to preform a miracle and clean up the park, but he still felt a little nauseous. He'd just swing by tommorrow 

Crowley started home. 

He was halfway back to the bookshop when he was doubled over with a sudden, excruciating stomach cramp. He spent several minutes bent in pain before he righted himself and began walking again, a bit faster this time. 

He was only a few yards further along when he found himself doubled over and violently vomiting into the nearest trash can. 

He tried to preform a demonic miracle on himself, but no dice. This had happened once before, the only other time he had had any personal contact with Pollution and Pestilence. Though last time, he had just been coughing up blood for two weeks straight. At least, Crowley was pretty sure, Pollution couldn't discorporate him. 

That didn't comfort him much. He tried hurrying back to the bookshop as fast as he could. He felt terrible. His stomach hurt, he was freezing, and he could feel himself rapidly slipping into Little space. He wanted his Papa. 

He made it through the bookshop's front door, trembling and crying. He immediately collapsed on the floor in another violent fit of vomiting. He could feel something warm and unpleasantly mushy in the back of his diaper, but he was too sick to be as disgusted and mortified as he would usually be. Still, the vomiting and the accident had triggered a new wave of misery and subsequent sobbing for the demon. 

He could think of only one thing to do, and in one great shaky bellow he cried out for his Papa.


	95. Chapter 95

Aziraphale was having a pleasant night in. Clad in his coziest, most oversized oatmeal-colored sweater. He had made himself a nice cup of cocoa and settled down on his plush sofa to catch up on some reading. (Aziraphale, though an immortal being, was never, and would never be, entirely caught up on his reading. There was just so much to read. So many interesting stories, and humans - clever things that they were - were always writing down more.) 

Crowley was feeling Big and was out on the town, no doubt causing mild havoc and minor annoyances. Before he had left, Aziraphale had made sure to make sure that the demon had his cell phone and that he would call Aziraphale if he found himself in any trouble at all. 

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel had just become plunged into eternal darkness when Aziraphale heard the shop door open. Crowley was home. Aziraphale was abruptly jolted out of his happiness when he heard an agonizing cry. 

Crowley had called out for his Papa. 

Aziraphale adored being called Papa by his baby. He loved being called Angel by Crowley as well, but there was something about being called Papa that was just softer...more intimate. 

Unfortunately, Crowley rarely ever called Aziraphale Papa. He seemed to only do it when he was deeply regressed and hurting. Aziraphale hoped that one day they could come to a place in their relationship where a happy Crowley could call him Papa. But, that it seemed, was not today. 

The unfortunate demon was lying on his belly on the floor, his long limbs flopped out every which way. Aziraphale noticed almost all at once several very telling indicators to his demon's condition. 

First, the pile of vomit next to said demon. Secondly, that Crowley's entire thin form was shaking violently. Thirdly, the unmistakable and rather unpleasant odor of a soiled diaper. 

First things first, Aziraphale miracled the vomit away. Then he wasted no time in picking up his baby, being careful not to support him by his bum and spread the unpleasant mess. Aziraphale placed a hand on the demon's forehead, fulling intending to miracle the malady away...nothing happened. Aziraphale tried again, more nothing. 

"Crowley darling," he said, gently rousing the groggy demon. "I need you to tell me what happened. How did you get ill?”

"Mmmm by a play park, saw Pollution 'n Pestilence. Made me help her spread garbage, then left."

And oh, that explained it, didn't it. Any celestial being who had any contact with Pollution and Pestilence was generally out of commission with some unpleasant malady incurable by miracle for a few days to a couple of weeks after meeting with Pollution. It was part of the reason that they outsourced any dealings with the Horsemen now. 

Well, Aziraphale thought, he would just have to take care of his poor baby the human way until he recovered. 

He brought Crowley up to the flat. Standing before the changing table with a sniveling demon in his arms, Aziraphale was presented with the first problem of the night. If he laid Crowley down, the mess in his diaper would spread, and Aziraphale didn't think that the demon would like that one bit. He knew, however, that Crowley found diaper changes comforting, even if he was loath to admit it. 

"Crowley darling, would you like me to change you the usual way, or miracle you changed? Or...oh! How about I miracle your pull-up clean, then change you into a diaper?"

"Last one,” came Crowley's voice, muffled from where he had his face pressed into Aziraphale's shoulder. 

Aziraphale had his baby diapered very quickly, as he was rather worried about the increasing shaking the now naked demon was doing. He carried Crowley over to the closet and asked what he wanted to wear. Crowley plucked at the sweater that the angel was wearing. 

" You...err...want to wear my sweater?" Crowley had never made secret what he thought of Aziraphale's fashion sense. The angel had never dreamed that Crowley would ever want to wear any of his clothing. 

Crowley nodded and tugged at the sweater again. 

Aziraphale set Crowley down on the bed, so that he could tug off the sweater and help Crowley into it. The sweater, which was large on Aziraphale's slightly chubby frame, absolutely dwarfed the skinny demon. Crowley seemed very pleased with it, though, and nestled down into the oversized garment, grabbing fistfulls of the oversized garment to nuzzle. Aziraphale melted. Crowley really was so sweet. (Not that he would say that outloud within the demon's hearing.) 

Aziraphale tugged warm thermal pajama bottoms - black with little shiny white stars - up the demons legs and over his diaper and plastic pants. Then came a pair of black fuzzy socks slipped on the baby's cold feet. Aziraphale then miracled his own pajamas on, gathered up Crowley, and crawled into bed. 

Aziraphale put a pacifier in Crowley's mouth in place of the thumb that had been there. (The last thing that the demon needed at this point was exposure to any more germs. He had quite enough right now, thank you very much.) The angel carefully arranged his baby so that he could clutch at his plushies and blankie, but still be curled up on Aziraphale's plush tummy. He tucked the blankets in around the shivering demon and begun to hum (terribly and off key) as he stroked long red hair. 

Crowley's eyes slowly slipped shut, and Aziraphale followed him into sleep not long after.


	96. Chapter 96

Aziraphale woke up to a demon retching on him. (Which was, incidentally, not the worst way he had ever woken up.) Crowley was crying his odd, tearless cry. Shaking and sobbing, he kept whimpering out little, pitiful whines of "sorry" over and over again. 

Aziraphale miracled away the messes, both the one that was spread over themselves and the bed, and the one that was in the demon's diaper. 

Crowley didn't stop sobbing. Aziraphale gathered him up wrapped in blankets, making sure he had his blankie and at least one plushy. The angel gently stroked the baby's back, trying to get him to calm down. "Shhhh, shhhhh, what's the matter darling?"

"Tummy hurts!" Crowley cried. 

Aziraphale felt as if the admission physically hurt him as well. It had been bad enough to see humans suffer like this for thousands of years. It made Aziraphale feel like his insides were made of particularly lively worms. Not a pleasant sensation at all. Especially when Heaven had ordered him not to interfere. 

But to see Crowley, whom he loved above all else, suffer was infinitly worse. Maybe this was what Hell truly was. Not the actual place, but the idea of it. Aziraphale didn't know what to do. He couldn't just miracle this away. He didn't know what to do to help, or even mildy relieve his baby's suffering. 

How dreadful, Aziraphale thought - not for the first time, to be human. To know that eventually, all would come to sickness and suffering you could do nothing about. 

Oh, Aziraphale chastised himself, these maudlin thoughts weren't helping Crowley or himself. He carried his still sobbing baby to the bathroom mirror and turned off the lights, knocked, and spun around. (gently and slowly as he was currently holding a nauseous demon.) 

He had rather hoped to get Helena. He got Gregor and Jack instead. At least they seemed eager to help. Jack scrambled through the mirror, comically long limbs flapping every which way. Aziraphale stepped back as Jack ended up in a heap on the floor. He popped right back up, however, to lend a hand to Gregor. 

The mirror wraiths sat Aziraphale and Crowley down on the sofa. And gave them both a once over. Aziraphale hadn't realized he had been crying untill Gregor offered him a hankie trimmed with violet lace. 

The angel wiped his eyes. 

"Do you haven any books on human illnesses?" Gregor asked, after Aziraphale finished explaining what had happened to his poor baby. 

Oh...oh! Books! Of course he had books! Why didn't he think of that? Oh, he really was a hopeless idiot. 

Gregor went downstairs to fetch any relevant books on medicine, while Jack stayed upstairs with Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley had opened his eyes half-way, and Jack was cooing to the demon. Jack turned twards Aziraphale with an unpleasantly large grin that made Jack look more like a maniac than he usually did. "He's so Little now." 

Jack wiggled his grotesquely long fingers in front of Crowley's face. The demon reached up, grabbed the wriggling digits, and bit down with his pointy little fangs extended. The demon looked quite pleased with himself as Jack nursed his slightly bleeding digits. Aziraphale smothered a chuckle into his hand. 

Even at his Littlest, Crowley was still, after all, Crowley. 

Gregor came back, arms full of books of various usefullness. (Aziraphale didn't think that any book that suggested blood letting as a cure would be particularly helpful.) 

Gregor opened one of the tomes and flicked through till he found a particular passage:

“For vomiting Littles, the main risk is water loss, or dehydration, especially if fever causes them to sweat more or they are also losing fluid through diarrhea. When vomiting is severe or prolonged, a Little may lose sodium, potassium, and chloride. These minerals have a crucial role in the transmission of nerve impulses and the contraction of muscles, and in regulating the body’s fluid balance.”

"When was the last time that Crowley had a wet diaper?"

Aziraphale had to think. "Oh, err...Last evening, when he came home."

"And the last time he drank something?"

Aziraphale...Aziraphale didn't know, and he said as much. He might cry again. He felt like he was going to cry again. He was a dreadful caregiver. 

Gregor nodded, "He might then be dehydrated."

Dehydrated. Dehydrated! You could die from that. Over a prolonged period of time, given, but still! Aziraphale let out an awful sort of keening noise. 

Jack thumped him on the back in solidarity. While Crowley brought a hand out of his blanket cocoon to lay on Aziraphale's cheek. Aziraphale grasped his baby's hand, feeling extremely undeserving. 

Gregor said gently. "Do not borrow trouble Aziraphale. Where do you keep the bottles?"

Getting Crowley to drink something turned out to be more difficult than expected. Plain water came back up almost as soon as it had gone down. Juice was held down slightly longer, but eventually ended up back out from whence it had came. Each, round of vomiting induced more crying. The more Crowley cried, the more worried Aziraphale got. The more Crowley could sense the Angel's unhappiness. Which resulted in even more crying. Which resulted in Aziraphale growing even more worried, and so on and so forth. 

Jack and Gregor were maybe not the best equipped to calm a distressed pair of ethereal beings. But they did give it a good old college try. (Though neither of them had been to college, and only one of them actually knew what a college was.) 

When the sobbing and fretting had died down they tried again. There was a mutual decision that milk or formula would be no good. Aziraphale ended up, after a bit of discussion, miracling up a bottle of cold Little's electrolyte drink. 

Crowley turned his head away and made petulant little noises. Aziraphale stroked his hair. "Darling, darling please? For me?"

Crowley grumpily accepted, fixing the bottle with a suspicious look. 

Jack clapped Aziraphale on the back again, making Aziraphale wince. 

"Don't worry old boy. If he can't drink, I've got these tubes you hook into a needle, poke the needle in a vein, then boom! You can put anything in there. Embalming fluid. Poison. Saline solution. Err...Maybe not the first two,” he amended, after a glare from Aziraphale. 

The angel closed his eyes. He really hoped that this worked. That Crowley could keep the electrolyte drink down. He really, really didn't want Jack to start poking bits of tubing in his baby.


	97. Chapter 97

Everyone was just sitting, starring at the demon bundled up in Aziraphale's lap, waiting for something to happen. For him to vomit up the few swallows of electrolyte drink he just had. Crowley kept glaring at his spectators, though in his current state instead of the fear he intended, it only illicited a string of "Awwws.”

Eventually, Crowley fell asleep, not having vomited. Jack wandered into the kitchen. (Aziraphale was too procupied with the state of Crowley to be too concerned about what Jack was getting up to.) Gregor kept paging through medical books. Aziraphale reached for one, intending to help, but was stopped by a dark hand over his. 

"Maybe it is best that you not."

"Why? What do you think it is? Is it terrible? Is it fatal? Tell me. Tell me!" Aziraphale's voice had risen to a pitch that he didn't know it could. 

He composed himself. Settling back down into the sofa, readjusting the sleeping demon. Aziraphale looked at Gregor, a little embarrassed at his lack of decorum. "I, ah...do apologize."

Gregor, looking unbothered, nodded. "It is quite understandable. There are many maladies the Little one could have, given his current symptoms. However, you, like us, are far less frail than humanity. I suspect that he shall recover, given time and proper care. If there is no improvement in his condition by tommorrow, we will seek the help of the witch Anathema."

"Ahhh...yes. That sounds very sensible." Very sensible indeed. Why couldn't Aziraphale be so sensible? Sensible was what Crowley needed right now. Not a useless fretting angel who couldn't even figure out that a vomiting demon might need something to drink. 

"It is because you love him so,” Gregor, who apparently had some sort of mind reading powers, said. "You cannot think as you might were it someone else. Crowley needs you, more than all else now. I see the bond you have, and I know that such love is rare. Among my kind, humans, and I imagine amongst your people as well."

"Crowley is my people,” Aziraphale answered without thinking. 

Gregor smiled. "I cannot say for certain that everything will be alright, yet somehow, I believe it will be."

Crowley opened his eyes, and looked up at Aziraphale. He smacked his lips, and stuck his little forked tounge out as if looking for something. 

Oh...oh! He was thirsty. Aziraphale hurried to get the bottle of Little's electrolyte drink from earlier. It was still cold, as it was expected to be. He brought it to the demon's lips. Crowley sucked greedily. Aziraphale was beyond thrilled. He smiled up at Gregor, who smiled gently back, as if to say "see, I told you."

Crowley finished over half the bottle before he was asleep again. 

This process repeated several times over the night. Crowley woke up, drank, and went back to sleep. Jack wandered back in and turned on the TV, with no volume and subtitles on, so as not to wake the sleeping demon. Gregor made them tea - coffee for Jack - and fetched Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel for Aziraphale to occupy himself with. The he returned to his chair, and took up a medical book once again. 

Aziraphale was infinitately glad they wouldn't be leaving him alone. He was ever so slightly less frightened of Crowley's uncertain future with them there. 

As dawn broke over the city, Aziraphale was roused from his reading by a quiet hissing, half muffled by the blanket swaddling his baby. Crowley was wetting his diaper. Aziraphale wriggled a chubby hand bettwen the blankets to check. Sneaking one finger past the leg holes of the plastic pants and diaper to feel the soggy padding. Aziraphale was overjoyed. Crowley was not, in fact, dehydrated. He wouldn't have a long and unpleasant discorporation. It was probably just a tummy bug and not the Black Plague or Meningitis, or something worse the humans hadn't even come up with a name for yet. 

Aziraphale's diaper checking had woken up the sleeping demon. "Darling! Dear boy! You've wet your diaper!"

Aziraphale then proceeded to plaster Crowley's face in kisses. For his part, the groggy demon absolutely didn't understand why something he did multiple time a day was worthy of such praise. But so long as he kept getting such attention from his angel he certainly didn't mind. 

Crowley snuggled in deeper to Aziraphale's warmth as the angel embraced him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted my drawings of the mirror wraiths on deviant art. Sooo if you want to look at some bad blurry sketches of Gregor, Jack, Helena, and the twins here you go:  
https://www.deviantart.com/damageddolly666/gallery


	98. Chapter 98

The chilly autumn air reddened the two men's cheeks as they walked into the play park. The little pendulum hanging from the dark-haired one's hand swinging in furious circles. 

He smiled. Taking in the scene of destruction. "This was definitely the location of supernatural activity. The tracking spell led us here and this mess only confirms it. It can only mean one thing." He turned to the shorter blond as if expecting an answer. 

"Err...that ghosts have no respect for public spaces and like to litter?"

Judging by the glare he got, the blond could only assume this had not been the right answer.

"It means that our summoning spells have been working! Soon we will be ready for the final step!"

"Uhhh, if it was our summoning spells that summoned the ghost or whatever, why did it show up in a random play park and not like...in the summoning circle?"

This earned the blonde another glare. 

"Magic is not an exact science."

"I don't think it's a science at all,” the blond muttered, but was largely ignored. "I just wonder,” he said, speaking up this time, "If we aren't...you know. Correlating unrelated events?"

Another glare. "There have been rumors of ghost sightings in this play park ever since what?"

"Ever since we started the summoning rituals,” he recited dutifully. 

And what intricate summoning rituals they were, the blonde thought. Taken from the most reveared tome ‘Ye Olde Google.’ At least now a days they had upgraded to actual, physical, spooky-looking books. 

"Yes, ever since we started our summoning. Now when we try a new, more powefull spell. This happens. Obviously we are growing stronger. I think its almost time to meet with him again and make the deal for the final summoning.”

Oh yes, the blond thought. Let's make a deal with a weird, socially awkward stranger who showed up at our door one day and asked if we wanted to make a deal with him to summon a demon. What could go wrong? 

The older man turned and begain walking purposefully out of the play park. "Are you comming?" He called over his shoulder. "I'm stopping for waffles."

The blonde hurried to catch up. Ah well, there were some perks to this gig after all.


	99. Chapter 99

At some point, a deliriously tired Aziraphale and Crowley had been led to bed by Gregor and Jack, despite Aziraphale’s protests that he didn't, in fact, need to sleep. He tried waving Jack off as he attempted to remove his shoes. "I can do myself. I don't need help"

Gregor look at Aziraphale from where he was tucking Crowley into the covers. "I know you can. Just because you can, does not mean you should always have to."

And oh. Hadn't Aziraphale said something like that to Crowley once? 

In the end, Aziraphale just miracled himself some pajamas. Jack had been going at the buttons on his waistcoat. Aziraphale wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Mirror wraits, as a species, he had come to learn, didn't have the qualms about well...almost anything the human race did. Embarrassment simply wasn't a thing for them. Aziraphale, however, had been around humans long enough to catch the dreadful habit of shame, and would prefer not to bee seen naked in all his pudgy glory, thank you very much...

It was still very nice of them, though. Maybe it wasn't so bad that he hadn't gotten Helena like he had wanted to. 

Admittedly, Aziraphale felt significantly better when he woke up. The ominous pressing darkness of his worries was no longer suffocating his mind. Crowley was curled against his chest, rubbing the sleeve of his too big sweater against his cheek adorably. His eyes looked significantly less glassy and unfocused than they had last night. 

The angel sat up and pulled the Little up with him. He nuzzles his nose into red hair, and took in the babyish scent. "And how are we this morning, my dear little boy? No more nasty spitting up?"

Crowley shook his head ‘no.’ He was still very Little and apparently quite non-verbal. Aziraphale checked his diaper and was glad to find that Crowley had wet. 

After the diaper change, Aziraphale brought Crowley back to lay on the bed, squirted some baby lotion into his hands, and began rubbing the demon's belly. Crowley gave happy little wiggles and made the most adorable little noises from behind his pacifier. Crowley was so much more animated than he had been last night. 

He was dressed again in Aziraphale's sweater and the black thermal bottoms. Aziraphale had significant doubts he would ever be getting that particular sweater back, but found he didn't mind all that much. Crowley could have anything of his he liked. Crowley could have anything at all. 

He carried the demon to the kitchen to see if couldn't eat a bit of breakfast. He was a bit surprised to see Jack and Gregor still there, sitting at the kitchen table. He could smell something peculiar, smoky like burnt toast, and assumed that they must have been having breakfast. 

Jack hopped up and stood in front of Aziraphale, blocking his entrance. 

"Look, I'm terribly sorry about your toaster."

"My toaster?"

"Well...I was trying to make French toast, and I...well. It's toast, isn't it? I mean, where else are you supposed to put toast?"

"He dipped it in the batter and then put it in the toaster,” Gregor helpfully pipped up from his spot at the table. 

Aziraphale blinked dumbly. Jack shifted from door to foot and gave the angel a crooked smile. 

"Oh err...yes, it's um...fine. I'll just get a new one."

Apeased by Aziraphale's forgiveness, Jack steped aside and the angel got a look at the remains of his toaster smoldering in the sink. 

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the toaster was un-blackened and sitting in it's usual place once more. Jack examined it. Shoving a couple of pieces of toast in. "Bloody brilliant! That's what that is. I don't suppose you could teach me?”

"No, I'm afraid not. It's a God-given talent only."

Jack shrugged and went back to examining the toaster. 

Aziraphale sat down at the table, positioning the demon comfortably in his lap. He was handed a bottle full of darkish liquid and he looked at Gregor questioningly. 

"It's ginger tea. A traditional remedy."

Oh, thought Aziraphale, that didn't sound so bad. At least he hadn't picked another equally traditional remedy such as leeches or trepanation. Crowley took the bottle and sucked eagerly. 

Gregor, it turns out, was a much better cook than Jack. (Which really didn't take much.) He had made eggs and bacon for Aziraphale and toast for Crowley, which was perfectly edible and not burnt in the least. Crowley successfully ate two whole pieces of toast, minus the crust. Then began nodding off again against Aziraphale's shoulder. 

"He seems better today,” Gregor remarked. 

"Ahh yes, not a bit of vomiting today. I err...wanted to thank you for coming over last night when I was err...” (many words could have fit here such as hysterical, beside himself, panicked, unreasonably melodramatic and frenzied, but Aziraphale choose none of them.) 

Last night he had been entirely convinced that Crowley would be discorporated before morning, now in the warm light of day he felt silly and foolish. 

Gregor just placed his dark hand atop Aziraphale's pale one. "It was no trouble,” he said in a tone that made it clear that would be the end of that.

Aziraphale smiled gratefuly. "You can go home if you like. We'll be alright. I think after Crowley's nap, a nice bath is in order. 

"Are you certain?"

Aziraphale gave a bit of a smile. "Yes I think so."

Gregor nodded. “The recipe for the ginger tea is on the counter. You will call us if there is the slightest need to." (It wasn't a request. Gregor thought, rightly, that Aziraphale might be more likely to seek help if it was something required and not something offered.)

He embraced Aziraphale, careful not to wake the sleeping demon. Then he retrieved Jack from where he was leaning against the counter, nibbling on burnt pieces of toast, and left. 

Aziraphale kissed the demon's brow. A bit of rest, a bit of love, and Crowley would be well again.


	100. Chapter 100

This wasn't going to end well, Eddie thought as he arranged the candles, flicking his blonde hair our of his heavily eye-linered eyes. He had seen the movies: the Exorcist, the Conjuring, Annabelle, Insidious, the Rite. He had even endured through every increasingly awful Paranormal Activity film. None of them ended well. 

He supposed he could just...not do it. That was always an option. But if he refused, he knew that the boss would pitch him right put of the Coven and back onto the street from whence he came. And as much as Eddie didn't want to summon a demon. He also didn't want to leave. 

Magic was the only thing Eddie had ever shown the slightest bit of aptitude for. It was the consensus of Eddie's father, his teachers, his friends, and that one random shouty man in the park that one time, that Eddie was a loser. A lifelong and probably terminal condition. He was a nobody going nowhere. He wasn't particularly good looking or clever. He didn't have any ambition. He didn't have any talents. He didn't have a wealthy family to secure him a place in the world, despite him being completely useless. 

Eddie just couldn't give up the one good thing he had going for him. 

He sighed and began to carefully trace out complicated sigils on the ground in red paint. (For dramatic effect.) He would just stock up on crucifixes and holy water. Maybe get a Bible. He wondered if it would still work if he didn't believe in God. He wasn't looking forward to finding out.


	101. Chapter 101

October 15th 

Crowley was laid out on the sofa for his nap. Aziraphale placed his pacifier into his mouth, tucked his plush duck and his blankie into his hands, and tucked the covers around him. 

Aziraphale thought that he might get a crib. Not for the night time, but for the occasional nap. Crowley liked to sleep much more than Aziraphale. Crowley even, in some cases, seemed to need sleep. A side effect of being a snake, Aziraphale supposed. If it was too cold or too hot or if he had eaten too much, Crowley would get slow and sluggish until he rested up. Aziraphale found himself terribly worried about Crowley falling off the sofa, even though he never had before. 

The crib could go in the sitting room, tucked in the corner by Aziraphale's favorite reading chair. Aziraphale could read and glance up at his sleeping demon every so often. He'd need a mobile of course, lots of cozy blankets and pillows, maybe some crib toys. 

Later, Aziraphale would go down and boot up his ancient computer or maybe take Crowley out to go shopping when he was feeling better. 

Two yellow eyes were peering at him now, pulling him from his imaginary shopping. Aziraphale went over to pick up his baby, fully expecting to be greeted by happy cuddles. He was not.  
Because things never had the decency to happen as Aziraphale expected them to. 

Instead, the demon scooted as far from Aziraphale as the sofa would allow and pulled his blanket over his head. Aziraphale was puzzled for a moment, but then he detected a sour smell in the air and realized what must have happened. Without hesitation or mercy he picked up the demon and sat him on his lap. Then gently extracted a curly head out from under the gray blanket. 

"Really, Crowley, that's quite enough of that,” he said, firmly but gently. "We've lived through periods of history where when one walked down the street they had a very good chance of having someone empty their chamber pot out a window and all over their head. I really don't know why you think that a bit of bodily waste would upset me. I know you've made a bit of mess in your diaper while you were sleeping. But it's nothing to fuss so over. What we're going to do is get that messy diaper off you and get you in a nice warm bath. Then you’ll get a nice, clean new diaper, and fresh new pajamas, and we'll have a cuddle and maybe something to eat, and watch a bit of ‘Moomin Valley.’" (‘Moomin Valley’ was currently the only television show that Crowley and Aziraphale both enjoyed, and therefore could enjoy together. It was soft and dreamy and whimsical. Perfect for a demon in Little space or an angel who was easily overwhelmed by how loud and bright the television could often be.) “How's that sound? Hmm?"

Crowley didn't say anything. Aziraphale hadn't expected him to. Crowley just put his arms around Aziraphale's neck and hugged tight, burying his face into the angel's neck. 

Aziraphale was very careful not to make the slightest indication that he was in any way upset by changing Crowley's soiled diaper. He didn't wrinkle his nose against the smell, he didn't frown. He just smiled and cooed to Crowley the whole time. He wanted to show Crowley no matter how troublesome or mucky taking care of him got, Aziraphale was more than happy to do it. 

Crowley perked up in the bath, splashing around with the army of little yellow ducks Aziraphale had recently purchased. Aziraphale gently washed his baby, paying special attention to the red hair that was now down to his shoulders. He wondered if Crowley would be amenable to him braiding it. He had always wanted to that in the early days. Crowley had often let village children braid his hair, and Aziraphale had sometimes selfishly wished it was him, instead, playing with the red curls. 

Aziraphale lifted the demon out of the bath. He got a gentle drying and a fresh new diaper, then he was laid on the bed to be given a baby lotion massage while he drank more warm ginger tea from a bottle. 

He didn't get fresh new pajamas, however. Any and all attempts to dress the demon in anything other than Aziraphale's oversized sweater was met with resistance. Aziraphale, being largely weak - at least where a certain demon was concerned - miracled everything clean and fluffed and pleasant smelling once more. 

Crowley ate almost an entire bowl of rice pilaf and Aziraphale couldn't be happier. They snuggled together on the sofa for a few episodes of ‘Moomin Valley.’

Looking down at the demon in his arms, who was staring intently at the screen, caught up in Moomin Troll's latest adventure, he came to a realization. This was Crowley as he truly was. All the time Aziraphale had known the demon he had expended monumental effort to put forth the appearance of being dangerous and mysterious and cool. Crowley had always been putting on a performance. Now he was sweet and soft in Aziraphale’s arms. Not bothering to be what he was expected to be. Or what he thought he should be. Just happily existing, safely curled up in the angel's warm embrace, unselfconscious and so achingly pure. Aziraphale felt unbelievably privileged to see the demon this way. It felt sacred in ways that churches and temples and mosques never had to him. 

The angel wiped away the tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. He kissed his baby's head. This was right. No uncertainty this time. This was the right thing. Him and Crowley here, like this, soft and together.


	102. Chapter 102

The black robes were pretty awesome, but Eddie still felt a bit apprehensive about the whole thing. His bosses’ new friend and the other dude (introduced as his 'associate') he had brought with him didn't help assuage Eddie's nerves. They looked and acted as sketchy as it was possible for people to look and act. One was dressed (and smelt) like he had just clawed his way out of his own grave and the other seemed to have no idea how to be a human being.

They had gathered together the whole coven, Nathaniel, Annie, Ling, Charlotte, Charles, and him. It was all very somber and ceremonial. Just like on TV. Even for Eddie's Hot Topic tastes, they were overdoing the entire thing just a touch. They turned the lights off, made him light all the candles, (Eddie was always put in charge of all tasks the others didn't want to do), and stood around the pentagram and began to chant. 

The two strangers (Eddie had never learned their names, and mostly referred to them as the “Creeps,” because that's what that gave him) stood watching them intently. 

Eddie wasn't entirely convinced something was going to happen. Magic he had seen. He could believe in magic. Demons though, seemed a bit far fetched. Though not believing that something existed didn't mean that Eddie couldn't also be afraid of it. He fingered the just-in-case crucifix in his pocket. 

He could feel a change in the air as they chanted. A strange heavy tugging started in his chest. Slowly, something dark started to materialize in the center of the summoning circle.


	103. Chapter 103

All hell had broken loose. (Not literally, mind you. If it had, there would be significantly more Hellhounds and a distinct stench of sulfur in the air.) The shabby blond man had broken out in ugly peaks of laughter. The tall guy in the gray suit was smiling his unsettling smile with all his too-white, too-perfect teeth, even though Nathaniel was yelling at him. Certain there had been some great fuck-up. Since it couldn't possibly be Nathaniel's fault, (Nothing ever was, according to the reliable source that was Nathaniel) it had to be the man in gray's. 

Eddie just felt sick. The creature in the summoning circle was probably a demon. Judging by the horrible yellow eyes. It was also most definitely a Little. Demons were supposed to be frightening, snarling, grotesque creatures. Not thin, human-looking redhead's curled in a ball, furiously sucking on a pacifier, glaring rather the least frightening (and rather adorable) glare Eddie had ever seen. 

Eventually the man in gray (who, from all of Nathaniel's yelling, Eddie gathered was named Gabriel) had enough of Nathaniel. "Shut up,” he said. And Nathaniel did. Gabriel waved his hand in a dismissive motion, “Go away." Nathaniel, looking a little dazed, did just that. 

The rest of the coven just stood around awkwardly staring at Gabriel and shifting from foot to foot. He waved his hand again and they all fled. Eddie was perfectly happy to go with them. Then, the scruffy blond who had never heard of personal hygiene barked, “Not you! You stay!" 

Eddie knew, with a deep sinking feeling, that he meant him. 

As soon as he was turned around a heavy book was thrust into his hands. Gabriel tapped the open page. “Draw this right between the door and the summoning circle,” he said. 

It looked like another summoning circle, though this one didn't have a pentagram in the middle. "Why do we need another summoning circle? We already have the demon.”

Eddie's legs were kicked out from under him and he landed on the cement floor of the basement with a hard thud. A can of paint was shoved in his face and his shaggy hair was roughly grasped and his head forced downward to press against the book that was now, like him, sprawled on the floor. "None of your fucking concern. Now do what you're told, you little pissant.” 

"Really, Hastur, language!" chided Gabriel. Though he didn't, Eddie noted, object at all to how Hastur was treating him. 

Eddied grumbled unkind things under his breath (he hoped Hastur couldn't hear) and got to work. 

As Eddie painted, and Gabriel stood there like a great, dumb-looking statue, Hastur took this opportunity to go and torment the demon in the summoning circle. 

He grasped the Little's face and in the most sickening, mocking voice Eddie had ever heard said, “Well Craaaawwwllyy don't we make a darling widdle baby?"

Crawly's answer to this was to extend his fangs to their fullest possible length and bite down hard on Hastur's hand. 

Hastur yanked his hand out of Crowley's mouth. "You little bastard!" Hastur smacked Crowley so hard that he fell backwards in a lifeless heap.

"Hey, don't do that man! He's only a baby!"

Hastur was in a worse mood than usual now. (And he was usually in a pretty bad mood.) He stomped up to Eddie and yanked his up by the collar of his shirt. "Do you have something to say to me?"

Hastur's breath was fetid and the look in his dark eyes (Eddie couldn't tell you what color they were, only that they we're dark) was terrifying. “No,” Eddie squeaked out, some latent bit of self-preservation taking hold.

"I thought so." Hastur dropped him back onto the floor. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Please, can we get on with it. You'll have all the time in the world to do whatever you want with the demon Crowley after we're done."

"Fine,” Hastur spat out, literally spitting at Gabriel's shiny shoes. He missed, and went to sulk in a dark corner and occasionally throw small objects at the heap of sweater and curls that was the demon Crowley.


	104. Chapter 104

Crowley had still felt a bit icky from his recent illness (thank you Pollution), but was largely content (and very, very small) curled up in his Papa's arms watching ‘Moomin Valley.’ His eyelids were growing heavy as he sucked gently on his pacifier and cuddled his blankie and duck, leaning back into the warmth of his angel.

He started to feel an odd tugging sensation around his belly. He thought at first that he might simply need to vomit again, but then the tugging spread out to his limbs. It shent shivers up his too-long spine. It was as if someone were stepping on his grave or calling his name. His real name, not Anthony J. Crowley, but the real one. The one that God had cursed him with after he Fell. The one that had power. Oh...oh...something clicked in Crowley's brain just as he felt his corporation being tugged in one great final tug. 

It felt like someone was trying, and succeeding, to shove his entire body through a straw. He couldn't breathe, which was alarming, even though he didn't need to. The cozy warmth of the angel he had been sitting on was replaced with cold hard concrete and a strange heavy feeling in all of his limbs. He felt his bladder release, warming the inside of his diaper. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at his new reality. 

The trouble with summoning demons is that it was a largely overrated past time. If done right, you got the demon, sure. The binding power if the summoning circle held them in check so they could not harm you. The problem was that same power also meant they couldn't use their powers for you, either. No making you suddenly obscenely wealthy, or giving your rotten father a sudden heart attack, or making that pretty redhead at the coffee shop fall madly in love with you. 

There were two things that you could do with a summoned demon. The first was to ask them questions. These were generally the intellectual sort of questions, about the existence of God, the nature of good and evil, boring theological rot. 

The second thing you could do was to give them away. Bind them in a box or bottle, or a particularly gaudy lamp, and set it up so the seals that bind them will break. Set the demon upon your rival, or you rotten father, and hope they are feeling particularly vengeful. 

Crowley didn't know what the black robed figures (Black robes really? Really? What was this? An Ed Woodfilm?) all staring down at him with half-shocked expressions wanted from him. 

The summoning circle was pressing at all sides of Crowley, putting tremendous pressure on not his physical form, but his incorporeal being. It was giving him a terrible headache. Pain shot in hot, sharp bursts in Crowley's skull. It did not help that he was still feeling yucky and very, very little. His stomach churned uncomfortably. The yelling that was happening now wasn't helping matters either.

Crowley finally looked up when he heard Gabriel's name in amongst the other yellings.

It couldn't be the Archangel Gabriel. No way. He was up in Heaven, doing boring bureaucratic things and being pompous. He was definitely not here. It must be another Gabriel. 

It wasn't. 

And just as a delightful extra, Hastur was here as well. Crowley really wanted to cry. He absolutely wouldn't, though. Gabriel and Hastur might throw him in a vat of Holy Water or shove rosaries down his throat or whatever foul things the two of them had concocted for him. But they wouldn't see him cry. 

Crowley was also not going out without a fight. (Not that he thought he could give a particularly good one in his present circumstances.) Biting Hastur was exceptionally satisfying. Even if it did earn him a slap that sent him reeling. He was left largely alone after that. Though he could feel small things occasionally bouncing off his back. (He couldn't see, but he suspected it was Hastur's doing.)

Crowley just curled up and tried not to cry. He felt small and helpless and afraid. This was why he hadn't wanted to be a Little. This utter feeling of helplessness. Existence was already a terrifying thing to navigate when you were Big, but when you were Little it was so, so much worse. He wanted someone to make things better. Because he was too weak and helpless to do it himself. He wanted his Papa. 

Aziraphale would come for him. He would. Crowley had always come when Aziraphale was in trouble. Surely the angel would try to save him now? Surely his Papa would come and make things better? But what if he couldn't find Crowley? What if he he found him and Hastur and Gabriel discorporated him? Or worse? Maybe it was better that Aziraphale didn't come. That he stayed safe. Away from Crowley. 

Crowley would be alright, really he would. If only his Papa was alright. 

At least they had had the time that they did together. And what a wonderful time together it was, too. The very best time. 

Crowley closed his eyes tighter. And shoved the sobs that threatened to rise right back down his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a moment from the abject torture of Crowley to give much credit to my beta LittleBird20, who is doing a wonderful job and is appreciated very much.💕
> 
> Tune in the same time tomorrow for more misery! But, not actually at the same time. My uploading schedule is erratic as A. Z. Fell's shop hours.


	105. Chapter 105

The coven was currently doing what the coven did best: drinking and making merry. Celebrating their first big successful spell. Ling and Charlotte were sharing drunken kisses on the sofa. Nathaniel was twirling Annie around in some sort of mock waltz. Charles was attempting to make drunken conversation with Garbriel (who was largely ignoring him and tapping away on a sleek silver phone.) Hastur had slumped in a corner surrounded by piles of empty liquor bottles. 

They were all waiting, but only Gabriel knew for what. Eddie looked down at his wine glass and felt sick. It was a feeling that hadn't left him ever since the summoning. 

It had been hours now. Five? Eight? Eddie wasn't sure. But he knew it was rather a long time. And they had left him. Just turned off the lights and left the Little demon in the cold and dark of the basement. 

Eddie set his glass down and slipped out. No one noticed him leave. There were, Eddie thought, some perks to largely being ignored unless someone wanted something. And he hoped that none of them did for a while. He went to his room first, then Annie's nursery. He had to be careful in Annie's nursery to take only what he was sure she wouldn't miss. It wasn't that hard. Annie was extremely spoiled. She had a lot of things stuffed in closets that she had decided she didn't like. (Usually shortly after she had gotten it and probably after she had begged for it.) 

He stuffed all the things he would need in his black backpack. Then he carfully crept towards the basement. (Stopping to take the chains off of his black parachute pants because they were making too much noise, rattling and clanging together.) 

The demon was still curled up in the middle of the summoning circle. Eddie didn't turn on the basment light. Instead, he had a lantern that shone soft yellow beams on the curled up creature. Eddie noticed a dark puddle of liquid the demon was lying in, and realize the Little must have wet through his diaper. 

Eddie sat at the edge of the summoning circle and took a deep breath. He leaned forward, stretching out a hand. "Umm...Crawly? Crowley? Crowley, I think it was. Are you a awake? Are you...alive?"

He half-expected the instant his hand made contact with Crowley's shoulder, the demon would turn around in a hissing, snarling visage of horror. (Eddie, as previously stated, had seen a lot of horror movies.) It didn't happen. Slowly, the lump that was Crowley shifted, until two yellow eyes were peeking out at him warily. The demon wasn't horrifying. He just looked sad and defeated and maybe a little bit cross. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. For what it's worth, man, I'm really sorry about this. I'm going to try and help you a bit, if that's alright?"

The demon didn't answer. It just looked at him with those sad, wary eyes. 

Eddie laid out a towel and brought out the supplies. He looked to Crowley again. "Is it alright if I change you? I promise I won't hurt you. I don't want to leave you down here in that icky diaper all night."

Crowley just huffed and went limp. His head hitting the concrete with an unpleasant smack. He just lay there for a while, Eddie staring at him, until he lifted his head and gave Eddie a look that plainly said "what are you waiting for?" This was apparently all the permission Eddie was going to get. 

He maneuvered the slender form on to the towel and pulled down his pants. Eddie was no stranger to changing diapers. He was a Caregiver. (Though he wasn't particularly pleased with his designation. It had been the last straw that had ended his tumultuous relationship with his father and had gotten him kicked out of the house once and for all.) And as the only other caregiver in the house besides Nathaniel, (and also the lowest man on the proverbial totem pole), he had been tasked as Little Annie's defunct (and largely unpaid) babysitter. He wasn't overly happy with the job. Annie was a brat, Big or Little and Eddie had the bruises from where she had kicked him in the shins to prove it. 

Crowley didn't fuss as his diaper was changed. He just looked terribly resigned as one of Annie's pink princess diapers was taped around his waist. 

Eddie used a towel to clean up Crowley's plastic pants as best as he could before slipping them back on the demon. He pulled out a pair of his own black fleece pajamas pants to replace the demon's wet ones. 

All throughout the diaper change, the demon had been rubbing a fist full of sweater against his face in a self-soothing motion. Eddie reached in his bag and took out a white and cream plush owl and held it out to the demon. Crowley looked at it duboiusly. Eddie wiggled it and put on a voice. “Annie decided she doesn't like me and that makes me sad. Will you be my friend?"

That did the trick. The owl was snatched out of Eddie's hand and cuddled to the demon. 

Eddie took the towel and mopped up the wee from the earlier diaper leak, then laid down a blanket and a pillow on the hard floor. Crowley eagerly scuttled into the warm spot and curled up. (The summoning circle that he was contained in didn't allow for tall demons to stretch out within, so really, there was nothing else for Crowley to do but curl up.) Eddie tucked another blanket over him. 

He sat down beside him and began to rub the demon's back. "If anyone comes down, I'm going to have to take the blankets and owl away. I'll give them back once they’re gone. But I'm pretty sure if that gross Hastur dude sees you with them, he won't be happy. Do you understand?" 

Crowley nodded. 

“For what it's worth, and I don't think its worth very much, I am really, really sorry. I thought you would be, you know...more demon-y. Horns, snarling, taste for human flesh, that sort of thing. I didn't expect you to actually be a person." Eddie paused and thought for a moment. 

"I don't think the others think you’re a person. Fuck, I don't think they think I'm a person half the time. I don't know what's going to happen now. I'd let you go, but I’m pretty sure Gabriel and Hastur would just make us summon you again. Even if I refused. I think they could make me. They're really fucking scary.”

Eddie rested his head on his knees and sighed. There was silence for a while, untill the demon let out a little pained whimper. 

Eddie looked up. Crowley's eyes were half rolled up into his head, and his back was arching off the ground. Eddie kneeled by his side, at a loss for what to do. 

When Crowley stilled, he asked "Is it being in the summoning circle? Is that hurting you?"

Crowley nodded weakly. 

Eddie sat back and buried his head in his hands. The demon looked so ill. He was pale and drawn, his eyes sukened into their sockets. It was such a rapid decline from even a scant few hours earlier when he had first been summoned. 

When Eddie was small, he had found a little black kitten helplessly mewing in an alleyway on one rainy walk home from school. He had picked it up, wrapped it up in his coat, and taken it home. 

His mother had scolded him for probably taking the kitten away from it's mother. But she had let him keep it all the same. She had warned him many times not to get attached to the sickly thing. 

He hadn't listened. He had named it Salem and it was going to be his best friend. He would love it and take good care of it, and it would in return love him and be his best friend. For a while it looked like Salem would get better. He started to drink his milk and got up to walk around a little. Then he seemed tired. Eddie thought this was normal, he was always tired after he got sick too. The kitten would rest and it would be fine. 

It wasn't fine. Eddie had come home from school one day only for his mother to tell him, in a conversational tone, that the kitten had died and she had put it out with the trash. Eddie started to cry. His mother frowned at him and said that she had told him not to get attached. And it was probably his fault anyway for taking it away from it's mother. Eddie cried harder. 

Looking down at the listless demon on the floor next to him, Eddie worried that history was repeating itself, and that just like with Salem, this would also be his fault.


	106. Chapter 106

At first, when Crowley disappeared Aziraphale was worried. He knew what had happened. Summoning left a distinct magical residue in the air the way soap sometimes left a film in the bathtub. 

Whoever had summoned Crowley wouldn’t know all the ins and outs of the proper care and feeding of him. They wouldn't know you couldn't let him get too warm or too cold. Or that you had to warm up the baby lotion in your hands before you put it on him. They wouldn't know that he wouldn't eat unless you hand fed him, and even then was a picky little dear. (It had taken Aziraphale centuries to learn exactly how Crowley liked certain foods prepared.) What if they gave him something that upset his tummy? What if they kept him somewhere that was too cold? Even worse...what if they weren't taking care of him at all? 

What right did they have to take him? Crowley wasn't a well known demon. Why summon him? He was Aziraphale's, just as Aziraphale was Crowley's, and they had absolute gall to take him from a place where he was warm and loved and deposit him someone-knows-where, and do someone-knows-what with him! 

Aziraphale wasn't going to stand for it. Aziraphale was going to track down these spineless scalawags and teach them better manners! They wouldn't so much as call for their pet lap dog to ‘come’ after he was through with them. 

It was probably, Aziraphale thought, some dreadful pimply-faced youths who had stumbled across a real magic book and thought it would be fun to summon a demon. Well, they had summoned an angel, too without knowing it. After all, he and Crowley were a package deal now, thank you very much. Aziraphale was going to show them that it wasn't fun in the least. It was...it was whatever the opposite of fun was. (Aziraphale's usually vast vocabulary suffered terribly when he was angry.) 

He got a familiar sword out of it's hiding place. He had hoped he would never have to use it again. And, well, he wouldn't actually harm the unfortunate humans who had summoned his baby. (Unless they had treated him badly, of course.) He just intended to give them the fright of their short little lives. 

He gave the mirror a tap three times in quick succession. If it was frightening he was doing, best to call in the experts


	107. Chapter 107

It was early the next morning before anyone came down to the basement. Eddie quickly took the blankets and pillow and plush owl away from Crowley and shoved them under the velvet draped podium that the spell book rested on. 

He leaned against the wall and tried very hard not to look at all suspicious. (He didn't succeed.) 

"Oh, you’re already here,” said Nathaniel. Not bothering to ask why, because he simply didn't care. "Gabriel said it's time."

"Err...time for what?" 

"Time to preform the second summoning,” Gabriel said, while licking his finger and holding it up in the air. "The residue from the first one has dissipated sufficiently. You don't want to get them mixed up. Very unpleasant things happen."

Eddie tried to say something, to ask something, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He was interrupted, anyway, by Hastur tossing a wadded up black robe in his face and growling at him to "get on with it."

So Eddie got on with it. If he made himself a problem for them, there was no way he'd be able to sneak down here and take care of Crowley anymore. Eddie took a deep breath and began to light the candles. 

He took his place around the circle and began to recite the chant. The same uncomfortable feeling from the first time grew in his chest and Eddie knew, without a doubt, that this summoning would work as well. 

A figure begain to flicker into existence in the middle of the circle. 

“Please, please, God I'm not sure I believe in, Satan, Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Oprah, Someone,” Eddie pleaded in his head, "please let it not be another Little!"


	108. Chapter 108

With every second that was ticking by, Aziraphale was growing more and more agitated. He was currently wearing out the floor of Anathema’s cottage by pacing back and forth. 

Helena and the twins, being the most magically adept of the five mirror wraiths, were currently helping Anathema with a tracking spell. It wasn't going well. They had been at it for hours now, the sun was beginning to rise, and Aziraphale couldn't help but feel they were running out of time. (He had once heard that after a person went missing the first forty-eight hours were the most crucial. He figured it probably applied to missing demons as well.) 

He had packed a bag with all of the things he thought Crowley would need when they found him. Blankets, diapering supplies, his unicorn plushie, blankie, a change of clothes, a warm bottle. 

Crowley was probably so very frightened and confused now. He was so, so Little when he was taken. And not well. Surely such stress couldn't be good for his baby's health. 

Aziraphale gripped the handle of his sword tighter. Making all the occupants of the room just a bit more wary. 

Jack and Gregor had attempted to try and calm the angel at first, but soon gave it up as a lost cause. They just sat at the table watching him fret. Newt just stood in a corner wringing his hands and looking more nervous than usual. 

A tentative voice asked, “Is he supposed to be doing that? Is it an angel thing?"

Jack and Gregor looked to where Newt wad gesturing. (Not pointing, because his mother had taught him it was rude.)

Aziraphale was fading as he paced. Slowly, the three watched as he became less and less there, untill he was no longer there at all. A thick residue of summoning magic hung in the air. 

They all scrabbled up at once. Running into the kitchen yelling for Edgar, Ellen, Helena, and Anathema respectively.


	109. Chapter 109

Apparently, they had summoned a librarian. A really, really pissed off (once the initial confusion wore off) librarian. 

He was loudly shouting at them, telling them what irresponsible delinquents they were. (Eddie, at this point, rather agreed with the angry demon-librarian-person in the summoning circle.) That was, untill he caught sight of Gabriel and Hastur. His eyes widened. “You!"

Gabriel smiled, his white teeth shining unnaturally white in the candle light. "Yes, me." 

"I thought you said you would leave us alone."

"Ah, ah, ah,” Gabriel replied, wiggling his finger at the man. "Heaven said it would leave you alone. I am not working as a representative of Heaven at the moment. I've take some time off for personal revenge. After all, now that the end of days has been called off, I have nothing but time on my hands."

"Enough talking, let's get on with things,” Hastur interjected, holding up a weird little curved knife that looked to be glowing. 

"Yes, let's,” said Gabriel cooly. 

Aziraphale sputtered, looking furious. He raged against the bindings of the summoning circle. Throwing himself forward with such great force the air around him seemed to tremble. Though it proved to be of little use. The invisible wall at the edge of the circle held firm. 

There was a loud little ping. Gabriel looked at his phone and sighed. Work always called at the most inconvenient times. He turned to Hastur and glared. "I have to go. Work needs me. They really are terribly lost without my guidance and wisdom to lead them. And you won't do a thing until I get back or the deal is off."

"It can't be off, you feathery fuckwit. I've already completed my end of the deal. I tracked down the spell books, I took them. You couldn't have done any of this without me. So I get my reward! I want Crowley's fucking head on a plate."

"And you'll get it. Be patient. I'll only be gone for an hour at most."

Hastur growled. 

Gabriel brought a small clear spray bottle out of his pocket and pointed it at Hastur, his finger on the trigger. "Don't test me, demon."

Nathaniel, sensing the impending murder that he most definitely didn't want to happen in his basement (for someone who thought summoning demons was a fun hobby, Nathaniel was strangely squeamish about other things, such as blood and murder and bloody murder), came up to Hastur and almost patted him on the back untill he remembered the state of Hastur's back, which, like the rest of him, was completely filthy. 

Nathaniel smiled. "Why don't you come up and celebrate with us? Two successful summonings! I think it's time we bring out the best vintages, eh? Then you can come back down here and take your demon off and do whatever you like with him."

Hastur growled at Gabriel again, but followed Nathaniel and the others upstairs anyway to raid the liquor cabinet. (If there was one human invention Hastur could get behind it was alcohol.) 

Apparently, Gabriel thought that Eddie had left with the others (or simply didn't care about him) because after tucking his phone back in his pocket, Gabriel disappeared in a beam of light. Eddie nearly pissed himself. 

Fucking Hell. They were all doomed. 

Eddie turned towards the summoning circles to check on Crowley and was met with a pair of furious blue eyes.


	110. Chapter 110

Eddie ignored the guy currently glaring daggers at him and went over to check on the small, curled up heap of Crowley. 

"What are you doing you foul little hoodlum? You step away from him this very instant!"

"I'm trying to help.” 

"Help! This is your fault! I could feel your magic powering the spell!”

His magic? Hadn't the others put in an equal magical effort? He had always been the most successful magic user in the coven, but he didn't think he was the one solely responsible for powering all their spells. Eddie's face twisted in a frown, he supposed it was hardly important now. 

Resolutely, he fetched his backpack and tucked the blankets around Crowley. Who only gave a small moan and didn't open his eyes at all as Eddie shifted him around and tucked the owl into his arms. He heard a soft, sad voice from behind him say, “Oh, Crowley."

Eddie looked down at the sickly demon. "I know I fucked up OK? I know. I didn't mean to do this. No one told me...no one told me it would be like this. I'm trying..." Here he choked a little. "I'm trying to help. I just don't know how."

A protracted silence fell over them. Then, "If you really do want to help. I think I may have an idea."

Eddie turned to the fair-haired man. "Sure, I'll do anything. What is it?"

"The book. Texts on how to summon angels and demons are extremely rare. It's ever rarer when they get it right. Most of them are locked up in the storage rooms of the Vatican, where even we can't get to them.” (It is interesting to note that while Hell thought that organized religion was the work of Heaven, Heaven was equally convinced it was the work of Hell.) “Destroy it. Burn it. I highly doubt that Gabriel, or any of you, has memorized anything from it. He won't be able to summon us again. At least for a while. Then come back here and release us."

"How do I do that?"

"Just rub out the symbols in the summoning circle. Please hurry."

Eddie grabbed the spell book and hurried out. He paused at the door and turned back. "If I do this, what happens to me? Someone’s going to kill me when they find out." (Equal bets on whether it would be Hastur, Gabriel, or Nathaniel.) 

"We'll take you with us. I have friends who will hide us with them. They won't find you."

"I don't believe you.” It wasn't that Eddie was opposed to dying in general. There were many, many times in his life where he would much rather simply not exist anymore. In fact, lying on his bed listing to Radiohead's ‘Creep’ on repeat and wishing he was dead was a favorite pastime of his. Eddie just really didn't want to die in the slow and agonizingly painful way that he was sure that Hastur would kill him in. 

He looked at the book. Then he looked back to the two creatures trapped in their summoning circles. Crowley crawled to the edge of his and stretched out a hand twords the other's as far as it would go. The fair-haired one (Demon? He didn't seem like a demon. Even the baby Crowley seemed more demonic than this guy.) had also stretched out his hand as if through sheer willpower alone he could reach through the magical bindings and take Crowley's. 

Eddie thought about how much he didn't want Hastur to remove his skin, or make him eat his own eyeballs, or whatever else he was sure the malignant man had in store when he found out Eddie had let his shiny new playthings escape. 

He stared down at the worn spell book in his hands, took a deep breath, and made a decision. He didn't know if it was the right decision. He was pretty sure any decision he made would end badly for someone. He just hoped it wasn't the wrong decision altogether.


	111. Chapter 111

"Oh Crowley, my dear baby boy. Hold on for me. Darling, be strong, be strong for me. I love you so much." Aziraphale was so focused on trying to comfort his baby boy that he didn't even notice the flash of light behind him. 

"Well, isn't this absolutely nauseating."

Aziraphale swung around, reflexively swinging the sword he had forgotten was still in his hand. It hit the wall of the summoning circle, but instead of just shimmering, the air cracked and hissed. He swung again. And again. 

Gabriel stood back, mildly amused. "Try and get out all you like, Aziraphale. I gave them a little help when they we're casting the spell." He brought a finger to his lips and made a shushing noise. "Upstairs need never know, as I may have misplaced the paperwork for that little miracle."

Gabriel rounded over to Crowley. Kneeled by him and pulled his head up by a fist full of red hair. "Oh, he doesn't look good. Does he?"

Aziraphale stopped swinging. "How can you! Have you no love? No compassion?"

"Of course I do, Aziraphale. Just not for filthy traitors who ruin everything."

When Aziraphale got out of here he was going to kill Gabriel. Not just discorporate him, but obliterate him from existence. He didn't care if he Fell. 

"You're a bastard. You were friends once, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Gabriel grimaced. "Why in Heaven's name would you think I would ever be friends with this foul and depraved creature?"

“He was an angel once! He was Raphael. I know you were friends. I remember. You and Lucifer and Raphael. I know he's changed. You've changed. But surely, surely there is at least some compassion in you for who and what he once was, if not who he is now."

"He. Is. Not. Raphael,” Gabriel ground out. Then he seemed to collect himself, and pasted his odd, empty smile back on his face. "Raphael is still in Heaven, Aziraphale, even you should know that. He just changed a little from the old days. He's certainly not a disgusting demon."

"You don't know? Crowley was Raphael. He Fell and God replaced him. She gave another angel his name, his position." Aziraphale was sweating now. He didn't have the time to stop his corporation from doing it. He was far too busy swinging his flaming sword, each blow creating a shower of sparks that fell down on him in a burning rain. He was so close, he could feel it. He just needed more time. “Records!"

"What?" Gabriel looked confused and slightly annoyed. 

"Records. There are records of everyone who Fell. Their names and positions, as well as who they became as demons, if that information is known to us."

Gabriel frowned. "Those files are very confidential."

"Surely you must be able to access them.” He refrained from adding, “Oh mighty Archangel Gabriel."

Gabriel's self-satisfied smile slid back on his face. "Of course I can. I'd have to do it in person, though. Well, it's not like you're going anywhere." Then, in a blinding flash of light, Gabriel was gone. 

Crowley gave a pained little whimper. 

Aziraphale redoubled his to break the blindings.


	112. Chapter 112

"Maybe we should get Adam?” was Newt's tentative suggestion. 

While Adam was technically no longer the Antichrist, he still had a remarkable ability for making things do what he wanted them to. You know what they say. You can take the boy out of Hell, but you can't take the Hell out of the boy...or something like that. 

A harried looking Anathema took Newt by the shoulders, making him squeak. "I could kiss you!"

But she didn't kiss him, to Newt's disappointment. Instead, she made a mad dash for the phone. 

Adam came, and brought the Them as well, because that's what you did when you went to visit a witch. You brought your friends. 

"So what exactly do you want me to do?" Adam asked after Anathema, Newt, and several people he didn't know had attempted to explain the situation to him all at once. 

"Just, believe the spell will work."

Adam shrugged. "Okay.” 

Anathema, Helena, Edgar, and Ellen gathered up the ingredients and prepared a tracking spell for what felt like the millionth time. This time though, this time the floor length mirror began to give off a slight glow and what it showed appeared to be someone's bedroom and not Anathema's cottage.


	113. Chapter 113

Gabriel had made exactly two meaningful connections in his entire existence. The first had been with Lucifer, and we all know how that ended. Fighting. Betrayal. Falling. Brothers becoming mortal enemies. (It seemed God had a thing for that particular trope.) 

The second had been Raphael. Raphael had been their darling little brother. He had always been trailing around them, keen to know what they were doing, and to get their attention and praise. He had made them stars. It had been the first (and one of very, very few) gifts Gabriel had ever been given. Gabriel, not a caregiver himself, hadn't been overly fond of Heaven's large population of Littles - until Raphael. 

It wasn't that Gabriel wanted to be Raphael's caregiver, far from it. He was sure that Raphael had a lovely caregiver, probably two or three (though Raphael had never mentioned them and Gabriel had never met them) to do most of the taking care of. Gabriel enjoyed looking after Raphael for short periods of time, while he was with Gabriel. He was, Gabriel felt, a little brother. 

Gabriel also enjoyed how much Raphael seemed to want to be around him. He had noticed, even in these early days, that whenever the other angels (except Lucifer) didn't have to be around him. They weren't. Gabriel didn't understand it. Why wouldn't they want to be around him? He was clever and strong, one of God's favorites. His corporation was good-looking by all standards that he had ever heard of. It was, quite frankly, weird. (Lucifer had tried to explain to him that he was often overbearing, and arrogant, and never listened, but Gabriel didn't listen.) 

But despite all of these attributes, and a winning smile, more often than not Gabriel was left alone. 

Raphael may have been a Little, but he had taste. He was always following Lucifer and him. When Lucifer was away on whatever mission God had sent him on, Raphael was there to keep Gabriel company. 

Baby Raphie wasn’t just any old Little. He was Gabriel's. 

Then, Lucifer had to go and start asking questions. Pointing out how unfair things were. How even when God said She loved them, She rarely actually did anything loving for them. They were just expected to endlessly work and serve Her. That wasn't love, Lucifer had said. 

Gabriel had railed against his friend; of course God loved them. They just didn't understand Her love. She had to. A world in which she didn't was unthinkable. 

When all was said and done, and the dust had settled, Gabriel had been left standing in the wreckage of their Heavenly fued alone, having betrayed his best friend. But it wasn't betrayal, was it? Gabriel wasn't capable of such an awful thing. It was Lucifer who had betrayed him. He just didn't understand. None of them did, that's why you had to trust God. Trust that She Knew and that She would make everything turn out alright in the end. 

At least, thought Gabriel, he still had Raphael. 

But he didn't. Raphael had changed. Gabriel hadn't seen him too much lately. He thought the endless fighting between him and Lucifer had frightened him away. Now he would go to him, and comfort him, for there was no one the war in Heaven hadn't touched in one way or another. (And if he was being honest with himself, which Gabriel seldom was, he really wanted Raphael to comfort him as well. He felt strangely empty inside now, and he shouldn't because he was right...he was right. Right?) 

But when Gabriel had found him, Raphael had changed. Not just his corporation,(which was nothing unusual. It was early days still. They all often experimented with their physical forms, seeing what would suit them best) but who he was. He greeted Gabriel cooly and cordially, almost as if they were meeting for the first time. Then he said God had work for him, and turned away. Leaving Gabriel alone. 

Fine, then. It was perfectly fine. Gabriel didn't him. He didn't need Lucifer, either. He was the Archangel fucking Gabriel, one of God's most favored, he was a force unto himself. He didn't need people who didn't understand. He was only humoring their petty ideas of “friendship” anyway. He was above such things. 

He should be spending more time on his work anyway. God's plan, that was the important thing, wasn't it? The most important thing. Gabriel was resolute. He would never be so distracted from his intended purpose again.


	114. Chapter 114

"I want to see the files of Fallen angels."

"Do you have a file requisition form, authorized by a Seraphim or higher?" Pravuil didn't bother to look up from his computer, where he was studying very important human documents. (These "very important human documents" were harlequin novels. Since Pravuil was the highest authority on writings, everyone just took his word on what they were. This resulted in Pravuil getting to spend most of his existence reading trashy romance novels.) 

"I think I'll skip the request form. My presence should be authorization enough."

Pravuil finally tore himself away from his book. He raised an eyebrow in question at the Archangel standing before him. But, well, it wasn't any of his business, and quite frankly, he wasn't all that interested. He pulled up the file and sent it to Gabriel's work email. 

Gabriel's phone pinged with the notification. 

"There you are,” Pravuil informed him and went back to reading about an Englishwoman named Athena who was caught between a Highlander and a hard place. 

Gabriel walked out of the file room, checking his phone, though he hardly needed to; he was certain of what it was going to say. 

Name, God Given: Raphael

Position: Archangel

Designation: Little 

Task: Creation of all Heavenly bodies not Earth. 

Status: Fallen with Lucifer

New Name: Crowley, formerly Crawly

Demonic Form: Serpent, black and red

Position: Greater Demon 

Designation: Unchanged 

Task: To be Earth's demonic influence

Name: Amarlia

Position: Angel of 9th Tier

Designation: Netural

Task: Minor Healing

Status: Part of the Heavenly Host

New name: Raphael 

Position: Archangel 

Designation: Unchanged 

Task: Major Healing, Arranger of God-Ordained Meetings and Travel

After the third time reading it, and it not changing, he turned back and stormed up to Pravuil's desk. 

"There must be a mistake!"

Pravuil looked up from his reading once again, beyond annoyed at two entire interruptions in one day. 

"There is no mistake,” Pravuil said, his voice as cold as the arctic in January. "This wasn't observed and recorded by Raqib and Atid. It was written down by me, as told to me by God Herself."

Pravuil went back to his book, wanting to see if Athena would be charmed by the rougish, but dashing highlander. (She would be, of course, but Pravuil liked to pretend there was a possiblity that the novel could end any other way but disgustingly happy.) He was clearly very done with interruptions for the next decade or so. 

Gabriel blinked. He blinked again. Then he went back down to Earth. 

He didn't go back down to the basement which held Crowley, no...Raphael and the ever annoying Aziraphale. He instead found himself in a vaugely familiar park. He sat down on a bench and watched, without really seeing, the weird little feathery creatures waddle around and make funny noises. 

Crowley was Raphael. Baby Raphie. Baby Raphie was a demon. It must be a mistake. An oversight. A clerical error somewhere. Surely God hadn't sent a Little to Hell? (Gabriel stoped that line of thought right in it's tracks. You mustn't question the All Knowing God.) 

But, this meant that Raphael hadn't turned his back on Gabriel! It had been a different Raphael! 

And his Raphael was here now! Gabriel had felt so lost since the Apoca-Whoops-Sorry-Not-Today. He had devoted himself to achieving one goal, victory over Hell. Unfortunately, due to a rebellious Antichrist and a meddling angel and demon, that goal would never come to fruition. Eternity stretched on endlessly before Gabriel now, and he found he had nothing to fill it with. He had decided on taking revenge because it gave him purpose, something to do with the long bleak days, lacking even sufficient paperwork to keep him occupied. He thought that maybe, just maybe, when he was done, this unpleasant emptiness inside him would abate. 

But now Raphael was here. It could be like it was in Heaven again. Maybe not exactly, but he would have his favorite Little brother back and that was what was important. 

They could do things together. Earth things. Raphael like Earth, he had saved it from the Apocalypse, after all. He could show Gabriel all of the Earth things he liked! They could also go flying together, they had loved to do that in Heaven. And Gabriel could hold Raphael on his lap and tell him all about what incompetent idiots the other angels were. Raphael would listen, a warm comforting weight, and then give him a hug in solidarity. Things wouldn't actually be any better for Gabriel, but they would seem better all the same. 

Oh, yes, Gabriel had something to look forward to again. He smiled, an almost genuine smile for the first time in a long, long time. He would go and get Raphael...who was still in the summoning circle...waiting to be brutally tortured by Hastur...Gabriel should probably do something about that. 

Quickly, he disappeared in a flash of light, wondering if Hastur might take Aziraphale instead.


	115. Chapter 115

Gabriel arrived back at the basement, and snapped his fingers, and the Summoning circle and the magic binding Crowley to it disappeared. Gabriel, ignoring Aziraphale and whatever rather noisy thing he was doing over there, walked over to Crowley and scooped him up off the floor. 

If Gabriel had been a smarter, more observant angel, he might have wondered where the blankets and plush owl Crowley had had come from. But Gabriel wasn't, so he didn't. 

Crowley's head flopped backwards and hung limply over Gabriel's arm. The angel frowned, that wasn't right. He maneuvered Crowley's head so it lay on his shoulder. Two yellow eyes opened and Crowley hissed as soon as he saw who exactly was holding him. Gabriel thought it was adorable. 

There was a shower of sparks, a peal of thunder, and the smell of ozone as a holding spell was broken. 

Gabriel found himself staring at a flaming sword being pointed at him by a rather irate Principality, whose white wings were spread out behind him and who was glowing (very literally) with a sort of righteous rage. 

"Unhand him at once, you vile villainous villain!"

"Absolutely not!"

"I will not let you harm him!"

"I'm not going to hurt Raphael!"

"Yes you are! You were all set to give him to Hastur a second ago!"

Gabriel sniffed, "That's before I found out he was Raphael."

Aziraphale sputtered. 

"I hate to interrupt," Hastur said, casually leaning against the doorway. A hand wrapped around a very nervous looking Eddie's neck. "But I believe you have something of mine."

Gabriel gave Hastur his best smile. Hastur scowled. "Sorry, plans have changed. Feel perfectly free to take the angel, though."

Gabriel felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He looked over to find that Raphael had sunk a long and pointy pair of fangs into his corporation. Gabriel tapped Raphael on the nose. "No biting.” Then he turned his attention back to Hastur. 

"I don't want the fucking angel. I want him! He killed Ligur!"

"Well, you can't have him. Why should you care anyway? It's not like you cared for him. Demons don't form attachments."

Hastur growled. "I don't...didn't...care about him. It's the principal of the matter. He killed my partner so I make him suffer."

Gabriel and Aziraphale began to vehemently tell Hastur why exactly he wouldn't be getting Crowley/Raphael. Hastur begain yelling at them that he would, until the basement was full of supernatural beings screaming at one another. Eddie just stood quietly, his neck still being gripped too tightly by Hastur's grimy hand, and trembled. 

None of them noticed the two figures who appeared in the doorway, until one of them spoke in the kind of tone that commands armies. "What is going on here?"


	116. Chapter 116

Beelzebub did not suffer fools gladly, which was unfortunate, as she was surrounded by fools. 

Beelzebub had rebelled because most everyone in Heaven, including God, was a pompous, arrogant moron. Unfortunately, a good portion of those idiots had also rebelled, and now Hell was also filled with pompous, arrogant morons. And Beelzebub did not have time for their shit. 

She especially did not have time for idiotic Archangels who came into her office and asked if she wanted to work for him (for, not with) while taking personal revenge on the traitors. 

Beelzebub promptly kicked the idiot out of her office. As far as she had been concerned, her duty was done. She had held the trial and carried out the punishment as Hell's laws demanded. That it didn't work was neither here nor there. 

Also, Lucifer was pissed. She had gotten a very unpleasant visit from the King of Hell himself as he expressed his great displeasure at Crowley being punished at all. Why, Beelzebub had no clue. Crowley had always received oddly preferential treatment from Satan. In the early days, when Hell was being built and there was in-fighting, Crowley had been sent upstairs by the big boss himself, away from what was at this point, practicaly a civil war. 

What he actually did on Earth was anyone's guess. Yes, he sent reports, but Beelzebub had very, very big doubts as to their accuracy. She highly doubted that Crowley had actually done half of the things he claimed to, but Lucifer still insisted on taking his word for it and sending him commendations anyway. For fuck’s sake, Crowley had once failed to send any reports for a hundred years and the Boss still insisted he be sent a commendation for the Crimean War. It was enough to make Beelzebub want to stick her head in the oven. 

Beelzebub wanted nothing more to do with Crowley. He was trouble, and Beelzebub had more than enough of that. 

And when she spotted the idiot Archangel talking to Hastur, of all demons, she made sure to threaten Hastur with unspeakable things if he took Gabriel up on his offer. Hastur was dumb enough to do it, too. He just hadn't been the same since Ligur became a demon shaped stain on Crowley's floor. Dagon had found him crying in a storage closet the other week. 

Ligur and Hastur had had some kind of...relationship...that Beelzebub couldn't contemplate without feeling terribly nauseous. And Beelzebub thought that he might jump at the chance for a little revenge. 

Apparently, she had been right and her threats had meant nothing. Sitting on her desk was a report of a demon summoning in London. To summon a demon, you needed the demon's true name, and the true name that was attached to this demon was Crowley's. 

Beelzebub gave a long-suffering sigh. Just as she was preparing to go up and deal with this new bullshit, Dagon appeared in the doorway to her office, scales glistening under the florescent lights of Hell, and smiling a pointed smile. "You'll never guess what I found!"

"Knock next time! And no, I probably won't.”

"Try anyway,” Dagon urged, smiling wider. 

"My sanity?"

"Noooo.”

"Your brain?"

"Noooo."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, what?"

"This,” replied Dagon and pulled a very confused looking Ligur out from behind her. 

Beelzebub squinted at the demon. "It's really him?"

"Yep.”

Beelzebub didn't need to ask if Dagon was sure. Dagon was always sure. Dagon had methods. Methods even Beelzebub herself shuddered to think about.

"How? He was dead. Not just discorporated."

Dagon shrugged. "I have no idea! I found him wandering around my file room. (Dagon’s file room was just an endless maze of stacks upon stacks of papers.) “Fascinating, isn't it?”

More like problematic, Beelzebub thought. The last thing that Hell needed was for demons not to stay dead when they were supposed to. The place was already terribly overcrowded as it was. Though in this particular instance, there might be a certain advantage to this miraculous return from the dead. 

Beelzebub made a decision. She grabbed the still rather baffled Ligur's arm and went upstairs.


	117. Chapter 117

Beelzebub surveyed the room of idiots once they had all stopped yelling and turned to look at her in shock and a bit of awe.

Aziraphale was waving his flaming sword around like the moron he was. Hastur had some hapless human who looked like he was about to piss himself by the neck. Gabriel was holding Crowley, who had his fangs sunk into the angel's shoulder. And...what was Crowley wearing? That was definitely the waistband of a diaper and a pacifier clipped to the collar of his sweater.

It seemed as if Crowley was a Little...that actually made sense. Why he had such favoritism from Satan. Why he was such an overdramatic, whiny, little bitch. At least that made one thing in Beelzebub's miserable life today that made sense.

She grabbed Ligur by the collar and shoved him towards Hastur. Hastur stared at Ligur. Ligur stared at Hastur. They both stared at each other. Then Hastur threw Eddie to the floor, stomped over to Ligur, and stared at him intently as if making certain it really was him. (It was. Adam had sort of inadvertently reset the universe just a bit when he had stopped the Apocalypse and denounced his father. He had wanted all the bad things that had happened as a result of it being Apocalypse time to be undone. Apparently, somehow Ligur's death was smooshed in with all the other bad Apocalypse things and undone as well. Why he was sent to Dagon's file room of all places, remained largely a mystery.)

Apparently, Hastur had found something in Ligur's visage that convinced him that this was indeed the real, genuine article. So Hastur spoke from the bottom of his blackened little heart. "Can't you even stay dead right, you fucking idiot?"

Ligur stopped looking confused for the first time since he had been rescued from Dagon's endless paperwork maze. He smiled at Hastur. "You missed me."

"I certainly fucking didn't. I told you before. If anyone is going to get the pleasure of offing you, it should be me."

Ligur just smiled wider. "I missed you, too. Or I would have, if I wasn't, you know, busy not existing."

"Fucking moron,” Hastur said, but it was fond, and he had a shiny, wet sheen to his eyes that in anyone else you might suspect was the beginnings of tears.

Beelzebub cleared her throat. "I hate to interrupt this happy reunion, but you've disobeyed me, Hastur."

Hastur turned to his unhappier than usual looking Prince.

"Ahhhhh. No? No, sir. I was attempting to foil the angel's plans?"

"Oh were you?" Beelzebub's voice dripped sarcasm.

"Yes? Sir?"

"Go back downstairzzzzz and wait for me in my office."

Hastur went, but Ligur stayed a moment, looking worried. "You're not going to execute him are you, Sire?"

Beelzebub paused, really she had had enough of executions for a while. She never liked them in the first place. They made her feel too much like the capricious God she hated, playing with life and death in such a final manner. She gave an irritated buzz. “No, but he won't ezzzcape punishment. I don't threaten idly. You better make sure he doesn't cause a bit of trouble for me for the next hundred yearzzzz. I might not feel so merciful next time."

Ligur nodded, and followed his friend/partner/enemy/lover/whatever downstairs.

Beelzebub was just turning towards the three remaining idiots when she was practically run over by two extremely badly dressed people bursting through the door.

"Sorry we're late,” Helena said. "Jack got us lost three times."

"Errr. Where are Jack and the twins?" Aziraphale asked.

"We found the party going on upstairs and they extracted the information of your whereabouts out of the partygoers. We thought we could handle freeing you, so we left them with the humans."

"We told them to do their worst,”Gregor said, uncharacteristically cheerful.

"Now," Helena said surveying the situation, “what's going in here?"

"Some extreme form of idiocy,” Beelzebub muttered.

"Oh, well I knew that,” Helena said primly. “I meant more specifically."

"Gabriel is keeping Crowley hostage! And I can't do anything for fear of hurting Crowley in the process,” Aziraphale cried, flailing his sword about, and sounding furious and tired and desperate all at once.

"Oh, yes I see. And poor little Crowley doesn't look very well, does he?"

"That," said Beelzebub, “would probably be the effectzzz of the summoning circle. It sustains itself by feeding off the summoned's true form. The corporation eventually diezzz and you're left with a weak, trapped, supernatural entity. How long was Crowley in there anyway?"

"At least twelve or thirteen hours now,” chimed in Eddie, who immediately regretted it when all eyes turned on him.

Aziraphale looked stricken. "How do we fix it?” 

Beelzebub shrugged, "Rest and time to recover, mostly. You can't just miracle him better."

"Will he die?" said the very worried looking angel.

Beelzebub shrugged. “From twelve hours in a summoning circle? Probably not. It usually takes dayzzz, if not weeks."

"I'll be sure to give Raphael all the care he needs,” sniffed Gabriel.

"You will do no such thing! You're the reason he's ill in he first place!" Aziraphale's grip tightened on his sword.

"It was an unintended consequence,” Gabriel said. (Not technically a lie. He had meant to do it to the demon Crowley, but he hadn't meant to hurt his little Raphie.) Gabriel swayed a bit where he stood. His vision went a little black at the edges. That was new. Was it supposed to do that? 

"He doesn't look very well,” remarked Helena.

"No, he doesn't,” said Beelzebub, with what was almost an upturning of the lips. (On someone else you might call it a small smile, on Beelzebub it looked more like a grimace.) This was what she had stuck around for. "Gabriel, you do know Crowley is venomous, don't you?"

Gabriel looked down at the demon who still had his fangs sunk in his corporation’s shoulder. "Oh,” he said, and promptly fell to the ground.

Eddie, being the person nearest to Gabriel and not holding a flaming sword, managed to catch Crowley first.

"May I suggest that we leave before he comes to?” said Helena, ever the voice of reason.

Aziraphale looked at Gabriel, who was slumped against the wall. "What if he follows us?"

"He won't. I'll make sure of that,” Beelzebub said.

"And why would you do that?" Aziraphale didn't bother to hide his suspicion. "You hardly care for us."

"No,” Beelzebub agreed. "But I like Gabriel even less."

Aziraphale could readily accept that. He grabbed the human who was holding his baby and made for the exit with Helena and Gregor.

Realizing he didn't know where he was going, he let Helena take the lead. When they passed a door with screaming emanating from it, Gregor went in to fetch the twins and Jack. Helena rushed the rest of them to the master bedroom and through the floor length mirror there. They found themselves in the witch Anathema's cottage. They waited for Jack and the twins while Anathema looked over Crowley and gave Aziraphale restorative potions to feed the little demon.

When the wraiths arrived, they all walked through the mirror again to the mirror wraiths' home, then once more to the bookshop.

Oh dear, it was good to be home, Aziraphale thought. He was feeling quite tired after that whole ordeal, really not tickety-boo at all. He blinked the blurriness away from his vision. If only he could make it to the sofa. Curl up with Crowley. Aziraphale stepped forward. A flaming sword clattered to the floor as an angel fell flat on his face.


	118. Chapter 118

Beelzebub looked down at the great lump that was the Archangel Gabriel. 

She miracled out enough of the venom so that he wouldn't discorporate. He would still be in agonizing pain; she was, after all, still a demon, and this was Gabriel. 

He blearily looked around as he came to. “Where's Raphael?"

"In Heaven being a feather dick, as far as I know."

"No...no, not that Raphael, the other one."

"The other one?" Beelzebub questioned, as she slid down to sit beside Gabriel on the basement floor. 

The still hazy Gabriel haltingly told her the story of Raphael. It only really confirmed what Beelzebub already knew. God was a dick. And cared about Her creations’ health and welfare about as much as the average human cared about the health and welfare of a cold germ. 

It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for the idiot...almost. 

Gabriel made to get up. "I need to find him."

Beelzebub grabbed his jacket and pulled the idiot back down. "No, you don't."

"Has it ever occurred to you, shit for brains, that Crowley might not want to go back to being bestest friends with you after all the shit you've pulled?"

"I've never hurt Raphael!"

Beelzebub felt the strong urge to stick her head down the nearest garbage disposal and flick the switch. "You've hurt Crowley and they're one and the same. Say it with me. Raphael is Crowley. Crowley is Raphael. Not to mention you've tried to kill the Principality, who Crowley is extremely and nauseatingly attached to, and who I'm pretty sure is his Caregiver."

Gabriel seemed to deflate. "Shut your stupid mouth,” he mumbled, as he rested his head on his knees. "What should I do?"

In any other circumstances Beelzebub might give him the worst advice possible, sit back, and enjoy watching Gabriel make a right idiot of himself. But currently? With Gabriel being such a sad pathetic lump, it sucked all the fun right out of messing with him. She needed him to fight back, put up a challenge. Beelzebub didn't like beating dead horses, figuratively or literally. 

She was going to have to do something...nice. For her own selfish reasons, of course. 

"Apologize, grovel, on your knees. Stop trying to kidnap and kill both Crowley and his angel, for starters."

Gabriel lifted one violet eye towards the Prince of Hell. "I didn't mean to harm Raphael. I didn't do anything wrong. I'm an angel, an Archangel, I can't do things wrong." Though it was said with far less conviction than he usually said such things.

Beelzebub snorted. "I was an angel too, you know, and somehow I managed to do the ‘wrong thing’ all the same." Beelzebub stood up and brushed herself off. "But fine, don't listen to me, see if Aziraphale and Crowley agree that you've done the ‘right’ thing."

And with that, Beelzebub went back to Hell, leaving a miserable Gabriel on the cold and slightly damp basement floor to contemplate what the "right" thing actually was.


	119. Chapter 119

It was thought by Helena and Gregor, who generally did all the thinking worth doing, that Aziraphale was suffering from the same malady as Crowley. The summoning circles had drained them, both their physical corporations and their true forms. Crowley was worse off than Aziraphale, as he was captured for longer. But Aziraphale still suffered. 

What they needed, Helena decided, was a good long rest and a bit of looking after. Of course, she, the twins, Gregor, and Jack would stay in the bookshop and make sure that Aziraphale and Crowley were taken care of and that no trouble came knocking. (Trouble here being an alternate name for the Archangel Gabriel.) 

She and Gregor carried Aziraphale to bed, while Jack ushered Eddie, who was still holding an unconscious Crowley. They stripped Aziraphale down to his underthings, which would only be considered revealing if you were a particularly prudish Victorian. (Incidentally, this was the era in which Aziraphale acquired said underthings.) Then, they tucked him into bed. 

While Helena and Gregor took care of the angel, Jack took care of the demon. He shooed Eddie out to go and amuse the twins. He laid out the changing mat, then he laid out Crowley on top of the changing mat and got him changed. He was going to remove Crowley's sweater and get him into some nice, clean, new pajamas, but the demon woke up enough to fervently protest that idea by clinging tightly to the sweater and hissing. While Jack often wasn't particularly clever, he knew when to leave well enough alone, so he tucked Crowley into bed in just his sweater and diaper. Crowley snuggled up to Aziraphale, and Aziraphale, still sleeping, wrapped his arms around the demon. 

Jack tucked the covers in around them both. Then he turned to Helena and Gregor.

The three had a quiet discussion about what they would do next. It was agreed that Gregor would stay in the bedroom to watch over the sleeping angel and demon. Jack would go back through the mirror to fetch what Helena and the twins would need to cast some wards around the bookshop. 

Helena walked back out to the sitting room; the twins were asleep on the sofa. They'd worn themselves out terrifying the coven earlier, it really was sweet. She then caught a flash of blond hair out of the corner of her eye. Oh, yes...the human. Helena supposed they should see about doing something about him.


	120. Chapter 120

Eddie felt nervous and out of place, which, to be fair, was how he always felt. Though currently, that feeling was heightened, as he was pretty certain, at this point, that he was currently the only human in the building. He was also probably going to die horribly soon. He had heard the screaming coming from the parlor where the rest of the coven had been. To be fair, he probably deserved it. They all did. They had messed with things which they didn't understand, and who were probably minding their own business before they had been so rudely summoned by some idiots who thought it was fun. 

He awkwardly waited in the sitting room. He supposed he could run. But he didn't know where he was. Was this still even Earth? He had traveled through mirrors. Mirrors! Was he in some Earth-like reflection dimension? It hurt his head to contemplate. No, he would just man up and take whatever was coming to him. 

He sat on the floor in a darkened corner (because it seemed more suitably dramatic than sitting on a chair) and watched the two Littles on the sofa snuffle behind their pacis and cuddle each other while they slept. They really were cute, whatever they were. 

Then the woman came out of the bedroom, looked tenderly at the twins for a minute, then brought up her gaze to look directly at him. Eddie felt his stomach drop, and a deep-seated feeling of dread wash over him. She didn't look angry, which somehow made Eddie more afraid. 

She sat in an armchair, then made a motion for Eddie to sit in another. He sat and waited as she looked him over. This strange woman, draped in layers of mismatched fabrics, somehow seemed infinitely more terrifying than the actual demon sleeping in the other room. 

"So," she said, breaking the silence at last. “How did you come to be here?"

"Ummm, like in this room? Or like, in this mess? Or like, just in existence in general?"

Normally, when Eddie asked questions like that he was chided for being a smart ass. She just smiled and said, “In this mess, I think, should suffice for now."

So Eddie told her. He told her more than he intended to. He told her about his father kicking him out, about meeting Nathaniel, about discovering he was finally good at something. Then he told her about all of the dubious things Nathaniel had had them try just to see if they would work, like trying to release a cursed book in the unsuspecting populace to see what would happen, or summoning a demon. He told her about trying to make Crowley comfortable and how he didn't know what to do or what to think anymore. He used to be so sure of things, things like there was no God and that demons only existed as metaphors for the failings of humanity. Because people never could own up to what they were, could they? They always had to have a convenient devil to blame. Maybe Eddie had been right, in a way. The actual demons seemed far less demonic than many people Eddie had met.

When he finished, Eddie slumped back in his chair feeling oddly hollow, like he'd just spewed out all his insides. Maybe he had. 

"Would you like to continue to learn magic? You seem to have an aptitude for the craft."

Eddie looked at her dumbly. "Yeah, but I don't think the coven is going to take me back with open arms now that I've run off with their demons."

"I didn't mean them. They couldn't teach you magic anyway, as they do not know it themselves. I meant us, myself and the twins. You might, if you like, come and stay with us for a period of time and learn."

"Yes," Eddie said quickly, both because he really did want to learn real magic and because he had literally no other options whatsoever.

"I will, of course, have to ask the twins and Jack and Gregor. I will have no one in my home that is not welcomed by all who live there."

Eddie nodded his agreement, and thought how absolutely dumb and desperate he was for now hoping to live with someone who he had been completely convinced a few minutes prior was going to kill him. (He still wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't.) 

They fell into silence, only broken by the occasional quiet snuffling of a twin.


	121. Chapter 121

It turned out that in the end Beelzebub didn't actually have to punish Hastur, his own stupidity had beaten her to it. Apparently, Crowley had also bitten Hastur. She found him a miserable, sweating mess leaning against Ligur. Hastur seemed to have gotten significantly less venom than Gabriel had, he was nowhere near discorporation. 

Beelzebub pinched the bridge of her nose. She was just tired, so very tired. She wished she was a retail worker or a plumber or a certified public accountant. Any job she could quit. Preferably with a big “fuck you.” She wasn't even (for once) in the mood to make Hastur anymore miserable than he already was. She kicked (literally) the two morons out of her office with express instructions not to miracle away the venom currently making it's way through Hastur's corporation. If they did she would know. (She didn't say how exactly she would know, but Hastur and Ligur believed, without question, that she would.)

She told them that she didn't want to see either of their ugly faces again for the next decade. Then she sat in her uncomfortable office chair and let her head hit the desk. She wondered how dismal the chances of her getting approved to take a vacation were. Preferably permanent. 

Meanwhile, Hastur was stumbling and cursing his way home, being held up by Ligur, who occasionally made a little noise of agreement for Hastur's benefit. 

The quarter they shared was just as dank and depressing as the rest of Hell, but it was home. Hastur wasn't looking particularly well. He was even pastier than usual and shaking awfully. Ligur sat him down on the bed. (Though the demons didn't need them, a few creature comforts had managed to work their way down to Hell. Beds were generally approved of because they promoted Sloth.) 

Ligur placed a hand on Hastur's forehead and tisked. Hastur smacked the hand away and grumbled something unintelligible. 

Ligur just shook his head and got to work undressing Hastur, while Hastur fussed and swore and just generally made the entire process much more difficult than it needed to be. 

Hastur had always been “difficult.” In Heaven he had been what they had unkindly referred to as a “lesser angel.” An angel who was created, but was not deemed fit by God for any particular task, so was just left to do whatever menial tasks the other angels saw fit to give them. Hastur wasn't particularly pleased about this, and had soon garnered a reputation in Heaven for his sheer unpleasantness. When God kicked him out, the other angels said "good riddance,” and no one thought of Hastur again. 

In Hell, he had much the same reputation. He went through partners fairly rapidly, no one wanted to work with him for long. He was unpleasant even for a demon, which was saying rather a lot. So someone had had the brilliant idea to place Hastur with another equally unpleasant demon...it had not gone well. Hastur had pushed him into a pit of boiling sulpher. (Hastur had done this, not just because he really, really wanted to, but because his former partner had been making unwanted advances on him. While Hastur liked tempting humans into carnal activities, he didn't see the appeal himself. His partner, however, had decided that Lust would be their personal sin, and for some reason incomprehensible to anyone who had a functioning nose and eyes, he had decided that Hastur would be the object of his desires.) 

When Ligur partnered up with Hastur, he hadn't found the horrible, miserable bastard he had expected, instead he had found a neglected and petulant little boy screaming for attention. So Ligur had given it to him, and Hastur, in true Hastur fashion, had thrown a fit. 

It took hundreds of years to form any meaningful connection with Hastur, but Ligur didn't mind much; he was a surprisingly patient demon. (Though if you informed him it was a virtue, he would have thrown you into a wall on principal.) 

He finally finished divesting the squirming, swearing Hastur of most his clothes, and tucked him into bed. He pulled out a worn scrap of fabric that definitely wasn't special to Hastur at all and tucked it into one of Hastur's hands. He smiled when Hastur immediately started to rub it on his cheek. 

Ligur got up to fetch a wet cloth for Hastur's fevered forehead. Then he took off his own outermost layers and crawled in next to the demon. 

Hastur made noises of protest as he was gather into Ligur's arms. "I don't need you, you know,” Hastur mumbled. 

"I'm sure you don't,” Ligur replied. 

"I did just fucking fine without you.” 

"I'm sure you did,” Ligur said, stroking Hastur's hair. (Dagon had already told him about the crying in the storage closet.) 

Hastur gave one last unhappy grumble and was asleep. Ligur pretended that he didn't notice the way Hastur’s thumb migrated to his mouth. 

It was good to be home. 


	122. Chapter 122

Aziraphale woke up with a start, not quite remembering when he had fallen asleep.

But, Crowley was curled against him, and he was in his bedroom. There were his pale pink walls, Crowley's stereo, and part of his music collection sharing shelves with his books.

Aziraphale tried to sit up, but his limbs felt like lead and his physical body was heavy in a way he had never experienced before. He fell back on his pillow with a thump. This woke up Crowley who gave a little grunt of unhappiness at having been jostled so. The poor, dear thing still didn't look very well; his eyes had dark rings around them and he looked pale and tired. Aziraphale tried to sit up once again. He didn't have time for such weakness, he needed to care for Crowley.

Crowley had always been such a pillar in his life, always there when things got a bit...difficult. He needed to be that for Crowley now, but his own corporation seemed to betray him. He made another valiant effort to maneuver himself up on the pillows.

He had a start when he felt firm hands helping him.

"It's only I, Gregor."

"Oh," said Aziraphale turning around to look at his friend. "Thank you,” he said when he was sitting up.

"It is no trouble." Gregor went to the door and quietly called for Jack. Then he came back to Aziraphale's bedside.

"Jack will bring tea and soup. He is a rather good cook when he bothers to follow a recipe."

Aziraphale tried to get up as Gregor was speaking, but was forced back to his bed by a firm hand on his shoulder. "You should rest."

Aziraphale frowned, "Crowley needs tending to."

"We will make certain both of you are cared for,” replied Gregor, with an emphasis on both.

He went around to Crowley's side of the bed to check his diaper. Crowley whined as the cover was lifted, and whined even more when Gregor tried to lift him onto the changing mat and away from Aziraphale. Crowley fisted his hands in Aziraphale's undershirt and refused to be budged, which left Gregor to awkwardly maneuver the bottom of Crowley onto the changing mat.

Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hair as Gregor changed him. "This really isn't necessary, you've done more than enough."

"We would be poor friends if we left you now; besides, the twins are rather enjoying staying here. They will be very pleased that Crowley is awake."

"I can't ask you to do this,” Aziraphale said, feeling like a terrible bother. Heaven had been a place where everyone was expected to pull their own weight. Uselessness and idleness was not tolerated, and he felt ashamed that he was now so weak he couldn't even care for his poor, dear Crowley.

"You didn't need to ask,” replied Gregor, who didn't get to say anything else as the twins scurried into the room. One sat on either side of the bed, both attired with little nurse's hats and plastic stethoscopes. (They also had had real scalpals, but they had been confiscated by Helena, who didn't think that either Aziraphale or Crowley would want to play autopsy at the moment.) One twin brought a cup of ginger tea to Aziraphale's lips, and looked so happy about it that Aziraphale didn't have the heart to protest.

The other twin was holding a bottle to Crowley's lips with the same amount of enthusiasm.

"We're playing hospital until you get better!" "We know all about human medicine, we've read the Island of Dr. Moreau.” “And Frankenstein. “And One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." "You don't need a lobotomy, do you?"

"Er...no dear,” said Aziraphale, "I don't think that will be necessary."

"Oh,” said the twins in unison. But they both perked right back up as they offered spoonfuls of soul to their respective patients.

"We warded the bookshop with Helena, and Eddie helped."

"Oh, that's very good of you, dear ones. Oh, but who's Eddie?"

"The human who came with you and Crowley. "

"Ahhhh...”

"We've got a big family now,” said the twin offering Aziraphale another spoonful of soup. "Eight,” the other twin chimed in.

"Eight?" Aziraphale was a bit puzzled. "Well, I know there is you two and Helena, Gregor, and Jack, and now this Eddie chap. That's six, dear."

Edgar (or Ellen, who could tell) frowned. "You and baby Crowley, you're family." "You want to be our family...don't you?” asked the other twin.

Aziraphale's face softened and his lips turned up in a small smile. "Of course I want to be family, darlings. I couldn't think of anyone in Heaven, or Hell, or Earth, or anywhere else in all of creation that I would rather have as family than you and yours."

The twins smiled and put aside the soup bowls to embrace Aziraphale and Crowley, and Aziraphale wondered if maybe there were more things that Heaven had been wrong about than the angel had ever imagined.


	123. Chapter 123

Eddie definitely didn't deserve the way he was being treated, he thought, as he sat with a twin on his lap. Gregor sat next to him, on his right, with the other twin on his lap. On his left, Aziraphale had Crowley cocooned in several blankets in his arms, as the Little fed the angel pieces of popcorn, and vise versa. In the armchair sat Helena, and Jack on the floor beside her, head resting in her lap, shoving grotesquely large handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. 

They were all watching some black and white horror film that Eddie probably would have loved, if he could have paid attention to it for more that a few seconds at a time. 

Eddie felt like an intruder. Somehow he had managed to worm his way into this happy, albeit really fucking weird, family and surely sooner or later the mistake would be noticed. He was, after all, responsible for the drawn look about Aziraphale and that poor little Crowley was still so weak. Eddie had hurt them and absolutely no one seemed mad about it. It was all so very wrong. 

Something bad had to happen to Eddie; he deserved it, didn't he? That was the way things went, in his experience of life. You did something, or didn't do something, or someone thought you did something, and then they got mad and did something to you in retribution. Then the balance was restored and life went back to normal, whatever that meant. 

Eddie had always hated this part of things, the waiting. His mother had done it sometimes, made it clear that he was going to be punished, then making him wait for his punishments - which generally had come in the form of him finding himself locked out of the house for a few days without any warning. (Eddie had always taken care to be particularly nice and accommodating to his mother in the wintertime.) Eddie, if he had to choose, much preferred his father's method of just getting extremely angry and giving him a couple of punches. Not that Eddie particularly enjoyed getting hit, mind you, only that when it was over and done, he felt such relief. The anxiety of knowing what was coming was far worse than the actual thing itself. 

Even though he suspected that no one currently in the room was actually intending to seek any sort of retribution on him, he just couldn’t shake the guilt and growing anxiety. He was tense all the time and he felt nauseous in a way that Helena's ginger tea couldn't cure. 

He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Though the physical moving did nothing to relive the very not physical ache. The twin on his lap turned to look at him with a sten expression that was absolutely adorable. "Stop wiggling Eddie. Do you have to go wee?"

Eddie gave the twin a little smile. "No, I'm sorry, I won't move again."

The twin nodded imperiously and settled back against Eddie. He let his face fall back into a rather pained expression. He buried his face in the twin's messy curls, seeking comfort in the smell of baby lotion, talc powder, and rotting flowers. 

Dark eyes that Eddie had thought were fixed to the screen stared at him, contemplating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my favorite day of the year, Happy All Hallows Eve! 🎃👻💀


	124. Chapter 124

Something was wrong with Eddie, of that Helena had no doubt. She had observed humans for a long time before she settled down in a physical form and dimension of her own. 

Helena had rather come to like Eddie, he was clever and quiet and a bit sweet. He didn't seem to mind too much how very not-human they were. The first time he had changed the twin’s diapers and looked upon their lack of reproductive organs, he had just blinked a couple times in rapid succession, said a quiet “oh,” and got on with it. 

That was another thing; he was good with the twins. And Jack. (Jack was often far more difficult than the twins were.) Helena could both appreciate who he was now, and see the potential of who he could become with a little love and guidance. 

Helena believed that the thing in life, or rather existence, was to make a little place for yourself, maybe a little family, and to take care of it. The rest of the world could go on with it's nasty machinations; the burning and rebuilding and anger that permeated it would not touch her family anymore than she could help. And Eddie was family now, so she would take care of him. 

On a quiet evening she took him to Aziraphale's spare bedroom, that they often slept in, and sat him down. He looked more nervous than he usually did. 

"Something is wrong,” she said gently and it wasn't a question. 

"Uggghhh....,” Eddie replied. 

"I should like," she said, still gentle, "if you would tell me what is troubling you."

"Nothing, I mean....I'm fine, I'm very grateful that you're teaching me magic, and letting me live with you...and stuff."

Helena smiled, "I know you are, darling." She brought a slim hand up to stroke his cheek gently. His eyes were wide and a bit frightened. (If Helen was human, and knew anything at all about cars or cervidae, she might have said that they resembled a deer's in a headlights.) "It upsets me to see you so obviously upset. I'm certain we could do something about it if only you'll tell me."

Eddie opened his mouth and closed it, then opened it again. And when he opened it everything seeemd to tumble out of it at once. How he felt so unbelievably guilty about what he had done to Aziraphale and Crowley. How it made it worse that everyone was so nice to him. How he felt like something bad was coming to him and he just couldn't shake that feeling no matter how much he tried or believed that he was forgiven. 

"Darling," she opened her arms to him. Eddie fell forward into them. She stroked his hair. "Would you feel better if I punished you?"

Eddie gave a muffled "yes." 

Helna sat Eddie up in her lap. “Sweetheart, I want you to have a way of telling me to stop if you need to. I'd like you to choose a word that you can use if you really need me to stop.”

"Raven,” Eddie said. 

"Thank you, sweetie." She kissed his forehead. Then maneuvered him so he was lying over her lap. "Are you ready, darling?"

"Yes,” Eddie said, burying his face in her skirts. 

She made the first swat on his clothed bottom. Firm enough to sting, but not hard enough to bruise. Eddie tensed up under her hand. "Now, just because I'm punishing you doesn't mean that I don't love you. You've just made an unfortunate decision,” she said, still firmly reigning down smacks on Eddie's upturned bottom. "It doesn't mean that you're loved any less." It was important, Helen felt, that Eddie knew that he was loved when he was being punished, otherwise what was it but abuse. Maybe the love she had for Eddie was new, a young blossoming thing, but it was definitely there. "Do you understand, sweetie?"

"Yes,” Eddie mumbled into Helena's skirts. There was a bit of a sob in his voice. She sat him back up, then stood him before her. 

"Take your pants down sweetie, you can leave your under things on if you want."

Eddie did as he was told without fuss. Then he was laid back across Helena's lap. She brought her hand down again. This time she heard a muffled sob. "That's alright sweetheart, you can cry if you need to."

A few more smacks and Eddie was crying in earnest. When she felt he had had enough, she brought him up and held him. As she wiped off the remnants of his running eyeliner and tears with a handkerchief, it occured to her just how achingly young he was. Young in a way that even the twins weren't, young in a way none of them had been. A way that only humans could be. 

She picked him up and walked over to a little table that held a bottle of the twin's baby lotion; she retrieved it and sat back down on the bed. "Would you like some lotion? It will help your bottom."

Eddie nodded. 

"Would you like to do it? Or would you like me to do it?"

"You." 

Helena gently laid him over her lap again, and pulled down his under things only far enough to expose Eddie's reddened bottom. She applied the cool lotion and felt him relax under her ministrations. 

When she was done she laid him on the bed. "I'm going to take your pants and shoes off now. I think you could use a nap, is that alright sweetie?"

Another muffled "yes.” 

She divested him of his shoes, socks, and pants, leaving him in only his underwear and a black T-shirt. She kissed him sweetly on the forehead. And told him she was leaving to let him sleep. 

"Do you think the others heard?"

"Oh sweetie, it doesn't matter. Shame is such a human thing. They won't be bothered in the least by you getting something you need."

"I shouldn’t need things,” Eddie mumbled into the pillow, "I'm not a Little." 

Helen gave Eddie's bottom a light tap. "None of that now. Just because you are a Caregiver hardly means you should never be cared for yourself.” (A lesson she thought that it would behoove a certain angel to learn as well.) “You have needs, and I won't have you being neglected while you’re under my care. Next time you feel like this, I expect you to come to me, or Jack, or Gregor, whomever you feel comfortable with. Do you understand?"

"Yes.” 

"You're such a good boy.” She gave him one last kiss to the top of his head, and quietly left. 

For a long time (it was at most a few minutes) Eddie just laid there, feeling odd and floaty. Then the door opened again and he heard footsteps, and then the bed dipped in. He was maneuvered so his head and torso were draped across a bony chest. Eddie opened his eyes to find Jack looking down at him. 

"What'ch ya doing?"

"Having a nap,” answered Jack. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No,” said Eddie, and closed his eyes again. 

He didn't open them again until he felt the bed dip again, this time with two twin weights. One snuggled up to his side, and the other snuggled up to Jack. The cloying smell of baby power suggested that there had been a recent diaper change. (Two actually, as the twins always wet like they did everything else - in perfect synchronism.) Eddie felt the hard press of the little plastc hands and feet of dolls against his side. He could feel also the gentle rise and fall of Jack's chest underneath him. 

He didn’t feel exactly like he belonged still, but he was warm and his head was fuzzy and he couldn't bring himself to care too much just now.


	125. Chapter 125

Gabriel was going to have to do something he had never done before...apologize. 

It's not that it was his fault exactly...it was just that maybe, somewhere, an error had been made in regards to baby Raphie. And Gabriel would have to apologize for that error if he was going to get his little brother back. 

The trouble was, Gabriel didn't know exactly how to go about apologizing. He had never done it before, and he had to do it right. Obviously, he was the Archangel Gabriel, if he was going to give an apology he certainly wouldn't be giving a subpar one. 

Since he could hardly ask the other angels about this, and he didn't really want to face Beelzebub, he decided that he would have to ask some humans. His method of doing this was to walk around a familiar park and look for Caregivers. He generally did this by spying one that was pushing a pram or holding the hand of someone who was obviously diapered and sucking on a their thumb or a pacifier. He then walked up to them, looked them right in the eyes, and loudy asked them how to apologize to a Little. (Gabriel was very good with humans.) 

Sometimes they ran away; Gabriel wasn't certain what that was about. They were frightened and in awe of his great presence, probably. Sometimes they did answer, though, (the ones who took pity on the very awkward, yet well-dressed man) and one of them turned him on to a wonderful idea. Build-A-Bear. Apparently, Littles loved getting presents, plush toys, and things made just for them. Build-A-Bear was, or so the nice human had said, a lovely mix of all three. He could make Raphael something with his own two hands. Surely he would appreciate that, that Gabriel had made something for him the way Raphael had once made a star for him. Surely, he would forgive him and things would be alright again. 

What was the other option? That he had found his baby brother again after thousands of years just to loose him again so soon? Gabriel steeled himself; those sounded suspiciously like doubts, and angels couldn't have doubts. (Technically angels were just supposed to not doubt God, but well...Gabriel really never did understand nuance.) 

Gabriel found the nearest Build-A-Bear. He explained to human worker there why he was there and exactly what he wanted. The girl thought it was "adorable.” While Gabriel would have used works like “handsome” and “charming” to describe himself, he supposed “adorable” was acceptable as well. 

He applied himself to the making of Raphael's bear with all the single-minded focus that he had with every task he undertook. He looked through every plush they had to find just the right one. 

In the end, he chose a dark blue bear with glittery silver constellations all over it's fur. It would remind Raphie of all the pleasant times they had had together in Heaven, flying amongst the stars Raphael had created.

He put a little voice box in its paw. With his voice on it, of course. Then he stuffed it and gave it a heart, which the human girl had said was very important. Gabriel was not about to skip any of the important steps. She then directed him to a place that would wrap the present. Gabriel didn't understand why you needed to put fancy paper around it. Wouldn't that only make it harder for Raphael to open? Why make some pretty paper just for the intention of destroying it? But, well...Raphael had been on Earth a long time now, he probably liked things done the stupid human way. 

Gabriel chose silvery wrapping paper sprinkled with sparkling glittery stars, and as the human wrapped it, he perused the card section. Apparently humans had invented a way to say things without having to actually say them out loud. It really was brilliant. And some of the cards were very clever. There was one with a picture of an egg on it that said, “You are egg-cellent!" (Gabriel laughed out loud, loudly. He would repeat this process with almost every card he looked at, much to the exasperation of all other living beings in the shop.)

He settled on a card that said, “My baaaad" on it, with a picture of a sheep on it. Because sheep said "baaaa.” It was funny. 

Gabriel took his package to the bookshop, whistling happily. He got three feet in front of the front door and ran into a wall. Gabriel examined it, not with his eyes, because there was nothing to see, but with his other, more supernatural senses. 

There were wards, heavy wards, and they seemed to be warding off something very specific. (If Gabriel had had just a teeny bit of self-awareness, he would have realized that the specific thing that they were warding off was him, and for very good reason.) As it was, Gabriel just saw a slight impediment to his plan. 

He tried several times to break the wards, but they were exceeding strong, and different than anything Gabriel had ever encountered before. 

Gabriel soon lost his patience and decided on an alternate plan. He stood as close to the bookshop as he could get and bellowed for Aziraphale and Raphael. (Keeping in mind that he was trying to get in baby Raphie's good graces once more, he even said please once.) 

It took far longer than Gabriel had expected for him to get any response. And it wasn't the response he had expected. A dark-skinned man in an awful orange flowered shirt looked at him through the dusty front window. He moved out of Gabriel's line of vision, and was gone. Gabriel waited...and waited, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. 

He was not pleased, he had never had to wait for anything this long in his entire existence. Just as he was about to start yelling again, the little bell above the door sounded as someone stepped outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this earlier.... But than I fell asleep.


	126. Chapter 126

Crowley held out another chicken nugget for Aziraphale to eat. Aziraphale had been worrying Crowley lately. In the days since they had been home, Aziraphale had lost several pounds. Crowley was maybe the only one who noticed the slight slimming of the angel's usually robust midsection, the slight flattening of normally rounded cheeks. 

Obviously, Aziraphale needed Crowley to care for him. Not that the mirror wraiths weren't doing a wonderful job of looking after them both. It was only that Aziraphale seemed to have lost his usually rather large appetite and kept picking at his food, which was very unlike the angel. 

Crowley had learned long ago that Aziraphale had trouble accepting things done for him if he didn't feel he had earned them in some way. So Crowley, being the devious little devil he was, figured out how to make Aziraphale feel like anything that Crowley wanted to do for him was either earned or something that Crowley wanted to do. "Come to dinner, angel, I owe you from ‘insert-time-and-place-here.’” "Come see this play with me, angel, I don't want to go alone."

In order to coax his angel into eating, Crowley refused to take a bite of any food set before him until Aziraphale had had one before him. Crowley also often whined for naps when he saw his stubborn angel was showing signs of tiredness. Then, he insisted on having his Papa sleep with him. Helena had caught on rather fast to what Crowley was doing, and had told him what a good and clever thing he was to take care of his Papa so. 

Crowley used to think that Aziraphale being reluctant to accept anything from Crowley was because he was a demon. Now, seeing the angel still staunchly refuse things from the mirror wraiths, he thought it might be less something to do with what Crowley was, and more something to do with what Aziraphale was. 

Crowley rather wished that Aziraphale was just a teensy bit better at being taken care of. His angel deserved all the nice things. All the crepes, all the dusty old books, all the cuddles, all the kisses, all the love, and all the care that anyone could provide. If Aziraphale couldn't let himself enjoy all the nice things, then, well...Crowley would just scheme up a way for him to have them anyway. 

At the moment they had finished the chicken nuggets, Aziraphale was looking a little cold; so Crowley pushed himself up of the sofa to fetch a blanket. He felt a bit wobbly. He had never been that good at using his legs at the best of times. (It was the hips, he'd just never gotten the hang of them.) But he felt particularly weak now. Since his kidnapping? Summoning? He hadn't really felt up to walking, and someone was always there to carry him wherever he need to go. He took a wobbly step forward. 

Then another and another. The thick diaper turned his walk into more of a waddle, but he was comforted by the fact that if he did fall on his ass, the blow would be heavily cushioned. 

"Oh, you're doing so well darling!" Aziraphale called from his perch on the sofa. 

"Look at you, baby!" called Jack, who was sprawled in the chair sewing. (Apparently, Jack was quite a skilled seamstress, and made most of the mirror wraiths clothes, blankets, and whatever else one sewed.) 

Crowley blushed. He felt rather stupid getting praised for doing something that he had managed to regularly do for thousand of years just fine. But it also made his insides feel warm and fuzzy, so he didn't ask them to stop. 

He managed to bend down and retrieve the ugly tartan blanket from where the twins had been laying on it earlier and toddle back to his Papa. He was rewarded with kisses. He tucked the blanket around himself and his Papa and was just thinking of nodding off for a bit, when he was rather rudely scooped up by Jack. 

Crowley hissed at his captor, who just smiled and bounced him gently. "Ah, ah, ah; no nap until you get a diaper change, you soggy little demon. Otherwise, you'll wee in your sleep and your dipaer will get all leaky."

Crowley looked to Aziraphale for support with big sad eyes; he wanted a nap, not a diaper change. 

The traitorous angel just smiled. “He's quite right, my dear boy.”

Crowley sniffed. "Not wet.” 

"Oh,” said Jack, laying him out on the changing mat. "You dont think you're wet? No accidents?"

Crowley shook his head, "No accidents."

Jack smiled, enjoying the game. "Well then, we'll just check and make sure, shall we?” He lifted up Crowley's sweater to expose his diaper and plastic pants. The demon still felt the pangs of shame at having wet himself, especially so thoroughly that his diaper was thick and squishy and very obviously sagging. Though that shame was slowly fading as Jack made funny faces as he examined Crowley's diaper with mock seriousness. 

Jack poked at the padding. "It's awfully squishy." 

He pulled down Crowley's plastic pants. "And awfuly saggy. Are you sure you didn't have even one little accent and didn't notice?"

Crowley shook his head "no." 

"Ah, well then,” said Jack, and unmercifully began to tickle Crowley's sides. This released a flood of warm wee into Crowley’s diaper as he giggled and writhed. Jack, the bastard, having obviously planned this, sat back on his heels and looked at Crowley. "Well, I guess you need a diaper change now then."

Aziraphale tried to muffle his snickers behind a chubby fist as Crowley pouted. 

Crowley was powdered and lotioned, and changed into a fresh, thick diaper. Then he was picked up and deposited once more in Aziraphale's lap for a nap. He had snuggled to his angel, and had made sure that said angel was sleeping before he let himself drift off. 

It felt like only seconds later that Crowley was awoke to loud bellowing coming from outside. 

He heard Gregor telling Jack that he would go down to see what was happening. Aziraphale held Crowley tighter and exchanged worried glances with Jack. 

Gregor came back and informed everyone that the Archangel Gabriel was outside the bookshop calling for Aziraphale and Raphael, saying he was here to apologize. Needless to say, everyone was skeptical. 

The wards were holding, though, and it seemed that Gabriel couldn't get in the bookshop. Crowley really wished Helena and the twins were here. They could reinforce the wards, or do something else practical and magic-y. But today of all days they, along with Eddie, had gone out shopping. The twins had wanted Crowley diapers (which was the twin's term for disposal diapers) of their own after Eddie had informed them that they came in many different styles and colors. 

This left only Gregor and Jack; and neither Crowley or Aziraphale would currently be much use in a fight. It was decided that Gregor would go out and see what the angel wanted, while Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jack would wait close to a mirror so that they could flee if the whole thing went south. (And with the Archangel Gabriel in the equation, figured Crowley, what other direction could it go?)


	127. Chapter 127

“He wants to apologize and give Crowley a gift. He's very insistent and swears he has no ulterior motives,” Gregor informed them when he returned. 

That was not what any of them had expected. 

"Er...what should we do?" asked Aziraphale, clutching Crowley tightly to his chest. 

"I don't think he will go away until he sees both you and baby Crowley,” Gregor pondered. “The wards should hold, Helena and the twins do excellent work, so that he will not be able to harm you or indeed even enter the bookshop."

There were, indeed, a few things that Aziraphale would like to say to Gabriel (preferably from a safe distance). He gathered up Crowley and wrapped him in a blanket; he gave him to Jack to carry. Aziraphale's corporation was still weak, and he didn't want that weakness to show in front of the Archangel Gabriel. 

As they reached the bookshop door, Aziraphale paused. He turned to Crowley. "Are you sure you want to do this, dear? Are you frightened? Do you want to stay inside with Jack?"

Crowley popped his pacifier out of his mouth and shook his head. "Wanna stay with you."

Aziraphale smiled. "My dear, brave boy."

And so they all went out together to face an Archangel with a smartly wrapped gift box. (If they were anyone or anything else other than what they were, they might have called the situation bizarre or unbelievable. Instead, they simply called it a slightly unusual Tuesday.) 

"I am here,” announced the Archangel Gabriel as soon as they stepped outside, “to apologize to baby Raphie." And he held out the shiny box. 

Aziraphale was taken aback, and more than a little irate, as he marched right up to the boundaries of the wards. "You think! You think that you can just come here, and say sorry, give him some probably booby-trapped gift, and everything will be tickety-boo. How dare you! HoW dArE yOu! You've tried to kill him, or worse! Do you even understand what you've done? The suffering you've caused him? You made him sick. Sick, Gabriel! You've hurt someone you claim to have loved. The poor dear is just back to eating solid foods and walking. I won't have you coming around here to hurt him anymore!"

The smile Gabriel had had when he presented his gift slid off his face. He had only ever felt this way when he had been brought before God and given a "what on earth were you thinking, and why would you do something like this, and I expect better from you" talking to when he invented the blob fish. (Gabriel had thought it was cute and squishy and charming, apparently no one else did.) “I didn't mean to,” he snapped at Aziraphale. “I didn't know it was Raphael,” he said, quieter. 

"It doesn't matter, Gabriel! Don't you understand? He's frightened of you! You've shown nothing but contempt for him until you found out who he used to be. You don’t care about Crowley, you care about a memory of who he once was."

"That's not true,” Gabriel said softly, and he felt his corporation’s eyes sting and water. Was it malfunctioning? Was he going to discorporate? He found he didn't care too much just at the moment.

Gabriel looked at Raphael, really looked. And he looked tense and frightened. His eyes darting between the Archangel and Aziraphale. He made Raphael afraid. He generally enjoyed inspiring fear and awe, but now it just felt wrong. He felt icky inside and that was certainly not a way that the Archangel Gabriel was used to feeling at all. 

He suddenly really, really didn't want to be there anymore. He set down the box he had been looking forward to seeing baby Raphie open. He looked up to Aziraphale. "He can keep the present. I'll just go now." And in a flash (that no one on the streets of Soho noticed, the way they hadn't noticed a chubby blonde in a sweater vest angrily yelling at a handsome man in a grey turtle neck these past few minutes) he was gone. 

Aziraphale blinked; his righteous rage and desire to smite fizzled out as he stood staring at the box on the sidewalk. That hadn't been what Aziraphale was expecting at all. He could have sworn he detected hints of genuine contrition in Gabriel's demeanor there at the end. Aziraphale felt very tired and like he needed a good, long lie down all of a sudden. 

Gregor examined the box, then picked it up. Then he let Aziraphale lean heavily on him as they walked back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I consider the blob fish proof that God had indeed abandoned us, but also something (for some reason) that Gabriel would like.


	128. Chapter 128

Helena, Eddie, and the twins returned home laden down with shopping bags. The twins were sporting plush Jack and Sally onesies that they hadn't been wearing when they had left. (Eddie had shown them one of his favorite films, the Nightmare Before Christmas, and much to his delight the twins had immediately loved it as well.) The four of them found Aziraphale and Crowley asleep on the sofa, and Jack and Gregor talking quietly together. 

They told Helena and the rest about the dubious events of the day, and it was decided that Helena, Edgar, and Ellen would check the box for any malevolent magic placed on it. It would be a good learning experience for Eddie. And since the mirror wraiths’ first introduction to the Archangel Gabriel was him kidnapping their friend, none of them felt particularly inclined to trust him. 

In the end, they couldn't find a thing that was suspect about the package, or the bear it contained inside, or even the card with the little sheep on it. So they wrapped the package back up and took it to Crowley when he had woken up from his nap. 

Crowley looked at it for a while, as if deciding whether or not he wanted to accept a gift from Gabriel, of all people. But it was a present, a shiny glistening temptation, and what sort of demon would he be if he didn't give in to a temptation? He ripped the paper off. 

Crowley hadn't really expected much. It was Gabriel, after all. He figured that Gabriel probably thought that a good present was a Bible or an autographed photo of himself. He didn't expect to actually like the present. And he certainly didn't expect it to be something he might have picked out for himself. 

One of the twins handed him a card with a sheep on it. One the inside was printed, “Sorry I hurt ewe,” and in neat hand writing it said, “made for baby Raphie with divine love from Gabriel.” Crowley blinked, this entire thing was making him feel weird ways. Crowley didn't like Gabriel. He was a self-righteous pick who had tried to kill Aziraphale without so much as a trial. But he did like the bear. 

It, along with Crowley's thoughts on the Archangel Gabriel, were set aside for the moment as the twins, too, had brought him back presents from their shopping trip. Soon, he was trying on his new black skirt with a lovely large red stylized snake motif and black and red stripped thigh high socks. (Crowley had been borrowing pairs of the twins stripped socks with increasing frequency.) They looked very nice, if Crowley did say so himself, and went well with Aziraphale's sweater. (Aziraphale had only succeeded in getting it off Crowley once for a bath. It was given to Helena and Jack to be washed quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Aziraphale suspected that Magic was involved. It then went back on Crowley. Who proclaimed it didn't smell right. Aziraphale was confused until he realized it was supposed to smell like him, and he went incredibly soft. They spritzed the sweater with Aziraphale's cologne and Crowley snuggled into the sweater again and Aziraphale snuggled Crowley.) 

The bear wasn’t thought of again untill Crowley gathered up his dolls and plushies to take them to bed with him that night. He was carefully arranging them on the bed when he came to the starry bear once again. He placed it on the nightstand instead of the bed like all the others. Then he felt bad. It wasn't the bear's fault that it was given to him by Gabriel. He went to put it on the bed, and as he was arranging it, he noted something hard in it’s little paw. 

Experimentally, he poked and pressed at it. Then he gave it a squeeze and Gabriel's voice emanated out from the bear. "I love you, baby Raphie.”

He was flying among the stars, Gabriel and Lucifer beside him. Gabriel was showing him some weird creature with a duck bill and a beaver tail he had just created. Gabriel was spinning him around as he laughed. He was curled up on Gabriel's lap and the Archangel was stroking his hair and quietly whispering, "I love you, Raphie.”

Crowley felt weird and slightly nauseous. It was more of Heaven than he had ever remembered before. Occasionally, a smell or a sound would dredge up some fragment of memory, but they were always vauge and fuzzy; these were startlingly clear. Crowley had been friends with Gabriel. Gabriel, of all angels! The memories were warm and happy. The only happy memories Crowley had of Heaven. 

The image of memory Gabriel and the Gabriel he knew now were completely at odds with one another. Crowley scrunched up his face; if his memories were right, Gabriel might actually be a multi-faceted person and not a self-absorbed, self-righteous dick bag. Well...not just a self-absorbed, self-righteous dick bag. 

Crowley stared at the bear in his hands. The bear Gabriel had made for him. Actually put thought and effort and maybe love into. (The thought of receiving Gabriel's love made him feel both icky and a little bit excited at the same time.) It had to be a trick. All of it. 

"What's the matter, dear boy?" Aziraphale asked, as he wrapped his arms around the demon and kissed his head. 

"Papa, can you feel if this bear has love?"

"Alright, darling." Aziraphale took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was still a minute, then he opened them once more with a slightly puzzled looked on his face. "Yes, it quite radiates love."

"Oh,” said Crowley, as he felt the uncomfortable sensation of the things he knew for certain slowly becoming uncertain. He liked it much better, he thought, when Gabriel was just Aziraphale's pompus prat of a boss. That narrative was familiar, comfortable. This...this was whatever the opposite of familiar and comfortable was. And Crowley didn't like it one bit. 


	129. Chapter 129

Crowley woke up wetting his diaper. Not too very long ago, this would have caused him great distress. Now, safe in the knowledge that wetting would not lead to shame and humiliation, but cuddles and diaper changes, Crowley found he hardly minded. Though he wouldn't ever admit it out loud to anyone ever. (Except maybe Aziraphale, if he asked. Or the twins, the twins never judged.) He rather liked the feeling of a wet diaper. It was heavy and squishy and warm, cradling him and protecting him from making puddles on the floor. Allowing him to continue to play or sleep or cuddle his angel until someone decided he needed a diaper change. It was comforting. And Crowley had found that he rather liked comforting. 

Even diaper changes were hardly bad. Aziraphale was loving and always gave him tummy kisses. Jack always tickled him. (Sometimes, unfortunately, after the old diaper was off and before the new diaper was on. This resulted, more often than not, in a bit of weeing happening on the changing mat.) Helena always told him what a sweet boy he was and stroked his hair afterwards. Gregor hummed, in his nice, deep voice. The twins, well...the twins had changed him exactly once. It had resulted in Crowley sitting in a puddle on the floor not an hour later. (The twins, it seemed, weren't very good at fastening diaper tapes.) But it had been fun. 

As Crowley finished weeing he decided to roll from his back to his tummy, and snuggle up next to his nice warm angel. 

He rolled, but was still cold. He grumbled in irritation and put out a hand to search. No angel. Crowley opened his eyes and sat bolt upright. No angel in the bed. No angel anywhere in the room. Crowley tried to slow his frantic heartbeat and ragged breathing. Aziraphale had probably just gone to get a glass of water or something. 

Obviously, Crowley couldn't just wait here for his angel to come back, he needed to find him to make certain he was alright. It was the responsible and sensible thing to do, after all Aziraphales needed lots of looking after. (By Crowleys of course.) He took Lenore the doll with him for moral support. 

It didn't take Crowley long to find his wayward angel. Light was leaking out from the crack under the bathroom door. Crowley pushed the door open and was surprised to come face to face with a sea of white feathers. 

Aziraphale stood with his back to both door and demon. He had one wing stretched out and drooping on the floor, the other was twisted around the front of him in a very uncomfortable looking position and he was pawing loose white feathers from it. 

That's why the angel had seemed so unwell lately, Aziraphale was molting. And it seemed...he was trying to groom himself, a difficult and unpleasant task at best. Well, Crowley would just fix that, wouldn't he? 

He gently set Lenore down and went over to run gentle fingers through Aziraphale's outsteched wing. 

No sooner had said fingers made contact with the wings, then they gave a jolt and disappeared altogether. 

Aziraphale spun around. "Crowley, darling, what are you doing out of bed?”

Crowley let his pacifier fall out of his mouth, but it was stopped from making an unfortunate decent to the floor by his paci clip. "Woke up and couldn't find you, angel,” Crowley pouted. 

"I'm terribly sorry, dear boy. I just needed a minute."

Helena popped her head around the door frame. "Is everything alright?"

The twins, not wanting to be left out of anything ever, popped up beside her. 

Aziraphale smiled, but it was thin and didn't ease the tired look from his face. "Perfectly fine, dear girl. Sorry to wake you."

"Aziraphale's molting,” Crowley ratted; he felt, somehow, that a sensible grownup shoud be involved and currently only Helena fit that description. 

"Oh, yes, like with birds. I do forget that you two have wings; you do like to keep them tucked away so nicely."

"He needs help."

"Aziraphale?” Helena questioned. 

"I most certainty don't. I've always groomed my wings myself thank you very much." (This was not entirely true. Aziraphale had had his wings groomed by other angels once or twice before, but it was not, on the whole, an experience he cared to think about, let alone repeat.) 

Helena looked dubiously at the angel. "Are you certain we can't help, Aziraphale, sweetheart? We'd love to help if we could, there's no need for you to undertake what I imagine is quite a momentous task alone."

The twins, who had become rather excited at the prospect of wings, chimed in. "We'll help Aziraphale!" "We'll help!" "We'll be really careful!” “We'll be so careful, we won't tug or anything!"

A reddish blush had overtaken the angel's cheeks. He wasn't used to having so much attention on him. "That's quite alright," he said brusquely. "Now, Crowley dear, I imagine you need a diaper change quite badly. Do hop up on the changing table dear, and we can get you back to bed."

"No." 

"No?" Aziraphale questioned. 

"Won't have a diaper change until you let me help with your wings."

"Really, Crowley. Do stop being silly and come for a change."

Crowley crossed his arms resolutely and raised an eyebrow. "No."

Helena hid a giggle behind her hand. The twins didn't bother hiding theirs. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips. "You can't stay in a wet diaper all night Crowley. Helena? Do talk some sense into him."

"Oh, I don't know, it seems like he's made a perfectly reasonable offer to me. You get your wings groomed, he gets his diaper changed."

Aziraphale gave the traitorus Helena a rather unthreating glare. "You support this...this...blatant form of manipulation?"

"Since it seems to be the only way you'll let anyone care for you then yes, yes I do."

The twins, eager to play too, stood on either side of Crowley and lifted up the hem of his sweater. "He's very wet,” they noted. "Soggy." "Soaked.” “He'll probably get a diaper rash soon."

Crowley looked as sad as he possibly could, jutting out his lip and making his eyes water. Then he did something completely dastardly and devious. He looked Aziraphale right in the eyes and asked, “Please Papa?"

It took the angel all of two seconds to crack. He rolled his eyes. "If all of you insist on this tomfoolery, then fine!" Two great white wings sprouted from. Aziraphale's back as the angel mentally prepared himself for what he felt certain would be a trial of his patience and good nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of last chapter this was at 100,666 words


	130. Chapter 130

Aziraphale laid on his bed belly down and spread out his wings. Helena sat at the head of the bed and guided Aziraphale's head into her lap. She stroked his hair and hummed while the twins and Crowley positioned themselves on the bed. 

Aziraphale could feel his wings twitch as his back muscles tensed. Helena shushed him and promised it would all be alright in the end. 

Aziraphale felt thin fingers make contact with a wing. Though he knew it was coming, the angel still started and jerked, and was pretty certain he smacked either one of the twins or Crowley in the face with a wing. 

"Sorry, dear! Sorry!"

"It's alright, Papa."

Papa. Papa. Aziraphale repeated the word in his head like a mantra. It was only Crowley; Crowley and the twins. 

He hated this. It hadn't even begun and he hated it. He felt so achingly vulnerable lying like this, with his head on Helena's lap. One of the most intimate areas of him exposed. (Angels considered their wings very intimate indeed.) It was wrong, he should be the one taking care of Crowley. (Helena and the twins could largely take care of themselves; Crowley however, Aziraphale would worry about letting him tie his own shoelaces. Which he would be right to worry, as Crowley, in fact, had no idea how to tie shoelaces.) 

The fingers were in his wings again. He could feel them - all three little pairs of hands. He could hear Crowley carefully explaining how to gently move your hands through the feathers to put them back into their places and find loose ones. Then how to gently tug at the feather to see if it was ready to come out. How you should “never ever ever” (Crowley's exact words) pull on feather that wasn’t ready to come out. He taught the twins to avoid the prickly little growth of the new feathers, but how you could gently scratch around the new little feather nubs because they got itchy. The twins paid close attention to everything the demon said, taking this most sacred of tasks very seriously indeed. 

Soon, under the demon's careful supervision, the three Littles were silently working their way through the massive white wings. 

It didn't feel bad, Aziraphale realized. They all were being so gentle and careful. Aziraphale realized he had expected it to hurt. For it to be humiliating. Not because he thought Crowley and the twins would hurt or humiliate him, but because that was how it had always been before when Aziraphale had had his wings groomed by the other angels. They had been swift and meticulous. They pulled out any feather that felt slightly loose because, "it was going to fall out anyway." They had chided Aziraphale over the state of his wings, his conduct as a soldier of heaven, his tendancy to dally and daydream. Anything they could think of, really. They were trying to make him better, they had said. Fix his wings, fix his conduct, fix him. 

It was never like this. Gentle and loving. Aziraphale felt like his wings were being touched as if they were something precious, as if he were something precious. Every once in a while, a twin would whisper something reverent about how soft or how pretty his wings were, and Crowley would agree proudly. Because his angel was the softest and the prettiest. 

Aziraphale didn't cry. Unlike Crowley, who only claimed to never cry but usually disproved that statement at least twice a week. (Aziraphale had once seen him tear up when he had dropped his ice cream on the ground before remembering that he was, in fact, a supernatural entity and could just miracle it back in perfect condition. Though, in Crowley's defense, it had been a particularly trying day. He'd had to send a report to Hell and he'd tried to pick up one of the coins he'd glued to the sidewalk.) He'd seen war and disater, pointless slaughter, and the Library of Alexandria burn down. He'd stood, terribly upset but stoic, through it all. (Except for the Library of Alexandria.) 

Now, now Aziraphale found his tear ducts (why did his corporation even have those?) leaking salty water down his face and into Helena's lap. She must have felt the wetness because she asked, “Are you alright, sweetheart? Do you need us to stop?”

"No," Aziraphale said, rather muffled, as his face was still buried in Helena's skirts. "I’m actually very, very well at the moment. Very well indeed."

Helena resumed stroking his hair. "I'm glad, angel Aziraphale. You deserve this darling, you deserve to be loved and taken care of. You are loved. You are very, very loved. Crowley is so proud to be grooming your wings. So are the twins. You should see how they’re working so seriously." She bent down and lightly kissed his curls. “It is no weakness to be taken care of, Aziraphale. It is as good for Crowley as it is for you. If you can accept this no other way, then think of how proud he is now. How happy he is to be able to help the one he loves so."

If several more fat tears rolled down Aziraphale's face at that, well, he knew Helena wouldn't tell on him.


	131. Chapter 131

Aziraphale hadn't been a popular angel in Heaven...he was always considered a bit odd. While most angels found fulfillment in their God-given tasks, Aziraphale preferred to lallygag - taking his time to see what was being created. He liked to watch all of the new life forms grow, and swim or crawl or fly about. (He was particularly fond of something called a duck. They did make the most darling little noises and had the cutest little walk.) He liked to marvel at the beauty of the stars, or see what new green life had been put into the garden in preparation for something called a human; which was, or so Aziraphale had been told, an odd, mostly hairless sort of monkey God was very keen on. 

Aziraphale also liked to watch the other angels. Especially, he liked to watch the Caregivers and Littles. A Little and their one or two, or sometimes even three or four, Caregivers would all find a little corner of Heaven to nest in. When they weren't doing their God-appointed duties, they would all retire to their nests together. Aziraphale didn't know exactly what they did there, but he imagined it was warm and soft and wonderful. 

He liked that idea. Someone to go home to. Someone to walk through the gardens with. To share his joy in all the new and wonderful things. He would very much like to take care of a darling little Little. Aziraphale liked looking after things. He seldom got to do it, though God had promised that he would get to look after the humans once they were finished and placed in their garden. Oh, how he was looking forward to it. 

So, Aziraphale never persued having a Little in Heaven. He would hate to have to leave them when he was stationed on Earth. 

Aziraphale was certain, of course, that one day in the future he would get a Little of his very own. He had been created to care for a Little. Certainly God wouldn't give him these desires, then leave them unfulfilled and him lonely. No, Aziraphale was certain that God would create more angels, more Littles, soon. She had just been a tad preoccupied with this whole humanity experiment. Once She finally set them loose in their Garden Aziraphale was certain She would turn Her attention back to Her other children and make certain they were all looked after. 

In the mean time, Aziraphale dreamed about his future Little. Would they prefer being male? Female? Both? Would they switch? Would they like to hear stories? Aziraphale hoped they would, he did so like to tell them. (Stories were rather a new thing in Heaven, though they seemed to be generally discouraged as waste of God-given time, and an insult to God because only She could create, for some reason they were seen as acceptable when used for the entertainment of Littles. This was what would become known as a “double standard,” though since the concept had not been invented as of yet, Aziraphale had no way of knowing that.) 

His Little would definitely like cuddles. They would be sweet and maybe suck their thumb as they looked up at him with big, adoring eyes. Aziraphale would watch over them, and they would love him in return, the way he so desperately wanted to be loved. He knew God's love was supposed to be all-fulfilling, but, well, God wasn't really big on cuddles or kind words and, if Aziraphale was honest, Her love felt very distant. It wasn't so bad, was it, to ask for a more tangible love? The kind with cuddles and soft moments and someone who was happy to see you when you'd been away. 

But that Little never came. Aziraphale almost, almost asked once. But he held his tounge. God had a plan. An ineffable plan. Surely this was all for a reason. He would just have to be patient. 

So Aziraphale was patient. He was patient so long he almost forgot what he was patient for. He didn't mind being alone most of the time, the company of a good book was all he needed most nights. Though sometimes a little ache would start up again in Aziraphale's chest. 

Now he had more that he could have ever asked for. All of the Littles that he had created in his mind paled in comparison to the little demon in a soggy diaper who was currently running his fingers through Aziraphale's wings so carefully. 

After he was done, and the twins and Helena were said goodnight to. Given a kiss and a hug and a very heartfelt “thank you,” as they went off to sleep in their own bed. Aziraphale would give Crowley a tender diaper change. He was certain his little heavy wetter was probably close to leaking by now. Aziraphale was going to give Crowley extra tummy rubs and kisses, and when they were all tucked up in bed, Aziraphale was going to quietly tell Crowley just how grateful he was to him, to Crowley (not God, Aziraphale was no longer certain that God had anything at all to do with this) for making him feel so cherished and loved.


	132. Chapter 132

After an even more affectionate than usual diaper change, Crowley led Aziraphale back to bed. He made sure that the angel lay on his belly with his wings stretched out, then he pulled the covers up to the base of Aziraphale's wings. Wanting to make certain his angel wouldn't be cold during the night, Crowley draped his blankie over Aziraphale's shoulders and kissed his cheek. 

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close to his side and wrapped an arm and a wing around him. Aziraphale couldn't believe that he had ever thought the demon incapable of love. 

Aziraphale woke up to rather itchy wings being carefuly examined by his little demon. (Crowley took the care and welfare of Aziraphale very seriously, whether it be saving him from Nazis, reassignments back to Heaven, or incredibly itchy molting.) 

"Most of your feathers look ready. We can soak the feather sheaths off today."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, my dear. They'll eventually fall off on their own."

"Nnnnggggkkk,” Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically and sat back on his haunches, exposing his wet diaper under his sweater. "Don't be difficult, angel."

"I'm not,” said Aziraphale primly, "being difficult." 

"You are,” said Crowley. Then he opened his eyes very wide, stuck out his bottom lip just a little, and asked in a slightly trembling tone, “Please Papa?"

Aziraphale sniffed and said sternly (or at least he thought it was sternly. It really wasn't.) “I know what you're doing, Crowley. You think you can pout and call me ‘Papa’ and I'll just do anything you like. Don't you?"

Crowley flopped back on the bed, gangly legs aloft, and took his duck plushie into his hands as looked up at Aziraphale with big yellow eyes. "Is it working?"

Of course it was working. Aziraphale wouldn't, couldn't, deny Crowley anything he asked for, and Crowley asked for very little. Mostly the things he asked for were for Aziraphale's benefit, Aziraphale realized, rather slowly. Crowley wanted to get lunch at one of Aziraphale's favorite restaurants. Crowley wanted to go to an antique mall that just so happened to have a first edition that Aziraphale had been trying to find for ages. (Literally.) Crowley wanted to groom Aziraphale's wings so he would feel better. 

Aziraphale wondered if he was glowing. He felt like he was glowing with warmth and love. They would definitely have to go to the toy store soon. He would make certain that his baby knew he could have anything he wanted, anything at all. Crowley deserved the world, and if Aziraphale could give him just the littlest bit of it, he would consider himself privileged to do so. 

Aziraphale looked down fondly at the demon splayed out over the bed. "Well then, my dear boy, why don't we get that soggy bottom of yours changed, then go to breakfast so you can tell the twins that they can yank on my feathers again today."

Crowley looked quite pleased to hear he would be allowed to take care of Aziraphale. Dear God, Aziraphale was lucky. 

On the way to breakfast Crowley asked quietly, “They didn't really yank, did they? 

"Who, dear? Oh the twins! Of course not, they were very gentle." Aziraphale laughed at his suspicious little darling. 

Crowley looked a bit embarrassed for having asked, but Aziraphale just kissed the top of the head and said, “I know you wouldn't let anyone hurt me, dear boy.” And he was surprised to find that he meant it. He did know. Though not a caretaker, Crowley took just as much care of him as he did of Crowley. 


	133. Chapter 133

This part of wing grooming Aziraphale found to be rather more...intimate than the previous night's. As it required him to disrobe and climb in a tub of hot water. (Which Crowley had made certain was at the right temperature. Hot, but not angel-scalding.) 

Aziraphale didn't like disrobing. Long since had the time passed when nudity was something perfectly acceptable, and even then, Aziraphale hadn't been all that fond of it. Oddly enough, Aziraphale had always been quite British, even long before there had actually been a Britain to be British in. 

Aziraphale was also keenly aware, as he had been so pointedly informed by Gabriel, that he had gone a bit soft. Certainly he was far from being Henry the Eighth, but he was rather pudgy in certain places. His love of good food had settled around his belly and thighs in ways that weren't terribly visable when he was clothed, but would certainly be on display when he was in wet under things. (Aziraphale point blank refused to get naked; though the mirror wraiths didn't understand his objections to nudity, they just shrugged and accepted his decision.) 

Long since had the days passed when it was in fashion for Caregivers to be soft and plump, and while Aziraphale didn't care about the opinions of random humans who would be dead the next time he blinked, he found he did care about what his friends thought of him. (It was a rather useless worry, as the mirror wraits neither understood nor cared about human social conventions.) 

If this were Heaven, and these were angels, Aziraphale would certainly be the subject of a lot of "tsk-ing" and lectures on the dangers of the sin of gluttony. But this wasn't Heaven, and these weren't angels, so Aziraphale disrobed and not a word was said about his belly or thick thighs. Helena just pulled off her many layers, until she was down to an embroidered chemise, and situated herself on the edge of the tub so Aziraphale could lay his head in her lap as he bent forward and let his wings spread out in the water behind him. 

Crowley and the twins all stripped down to diapers and plastic pants, and Crowley begain showing them how to pour water over the feather sheathes until they loosened enough that you could gently remove them. Then the new feather had to be fluffed out and gently groomed into place. 

Eddie was in charge of collecting the feather sheathes and loose feathers. So they weren't just left floating in the bath water. (Eddie was trying not to let the fact that Aziraphale was a real angel break his brain. It helped a little that Aziraphale was so kind, and soft, and real; not cold and, inhumanly beautiful, and aloof like Eddie had imagined angels to be when he let himself think about such nonsense.) 

Jack and Gregor had been sent out on some secret mission by Crowley. Aziraphale couldn't begin to imagine what it was, and was rather too distracted by other things to much care at the moment what things his baby demon was plotting. 

The warm water was nice, Aziraphale thought drowsily. Maybe he would take Crowley to the sea for a bit. Aziraphale had always like the sea. Had the twins ever seen it? Had Helena and Gregor and Jack? Had Eddie? Maybe he'd take them all with. They could make a nice little vacation of it. He should probably get the special kind of diapers and plastic pants meant for swimming. Or maybe Crowley would like to swim naked like he used to in Rome. Aziraphale supposed it would hardly make a difference if Crowley had a bit of a wee in the sea, would it? 

Aziraphale yawned; the bath water was pleasantly warm. Helena was humming something pretty and a tiny bit melancholy as she stroked his hair. The gentle yet steady feeling of little hands working their way through his feathers was surprisingly soothing. (Aziraphale would have never in his wildest dreams have called wing grooming soothing before. Words like trying, and tedious, and slightly painful, would have been, to the angel, more accurate descriptors.) Aziraphale was picturing lying on the beach beside Helena and Gregor. The sun warming him, as Jack and Eddie chased around laughing Littles clad only in diapers and plastic pants. 

It was warm and happy, and Aziraphale could feel his eyelids grow heavy. He wouldn't, of course, fall asleep, he thought, just as he was falling asleep.


	134. Chapter 134

Aziraphale blinked and he was being lifted out of the bathtub. Then he blinked again and he he felt his wings being gently patted dry. Then Aziraphale’s eyes, the naughty things, closed again without him telling them to. 

When they opened again he was tucked in bed with his tartan nightshirt on, warm and dry. He attempted to drowsily roll over onto his back, but forgot his wings were still out, and he heard a yelp as a demon was smacked with white feathers. 

Aziraphale managed to fold his wings in so he could lie on his back. Then he reached out in the dark for his little demon. Crowley crawled up Aziraphale and rested his head on the angel's chest. Red curls tickled Aziraphale's nose. 

Though his eyes were closed, and he couldn’t see, Aziraphale knew, just knew that the demon was pouting. He kissed the crown of red hair and took in the smell of baby lotion and powder that radiated off his little demon. Obviously someone had given him a diaper change, and for some reason that didn't fill Aziraphale with the guilt he figured it probably should have. 

"I'm sorry darling, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Crowley sniffed. "Didn't hurt me, angel." But there was a hint of a pout in his voice. 

"Of course not darling, you're a big strong demon, aren't you?"

"Hmmmm," Crowley said, hearing the teasing in Aziraphale's voice. He was a big strong demon, he was. He was just currently a big strong demon who wanted a cuddle and a nap. He burrowed further into Aziraphale's warmth. 

Aziraphale lay for a while in the quiet, almost asleep but not quite. He felt a sudden burst of warmth on his thigh where Crowley's diapered crotch was located. It was so intimate like this. Crowley splayed out on him, so beautiful and achingly vulnerable. Trusting that he would come to no harm with Aziraphale. That he wouldn't be humiliated for what he was, but loved and cherished and taken care of. 

Aziraphale wondered if that was how the others had seen him earlier today. He fell asleep. Asleep! When they were grooming his wings, something unheard of in Heaven. If that had happend when he was still a soldier of God, he would have probably received a very stern reprimand for being so careless as to leave himself so vulnerable. (Never mind that he was with people that Heaven told him he should trust above all else.) Yes, thought Aziraphale, things really were different now. And his eyes closed once again. 

Aziraphale woke to Crowley's face in an uncomfortable proximity to his own. 

"You're awake, angel,” Crowley said, as if Aziraphale wasn't aware of that fact himself.

The demon wiggled his way off Aziraphale, then off the bed. "Stay here, angel."

"Oh, you really are a bossy little thing, aren't you?" Aziraphale huffed without any real annoyance. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Stay here pleeeeaaasee, angel?”

Aziraphale smiled indulgently, “Of course, dear boy."

When the demon returned it was with several large bakery boxes. They were, Aziraphale noted, from his favorite bakery. Crowley opened one and took out a delicate looking macaroon. "Open up angel,” Crowley said, opening his own mouth as if the angel need a visual aid.

"Is this what you had Gregor and Jack go out to get?"

Crowley nodded. 

"Oh, you really shouldn't have. There was no need...and you certainly don't need to feed me." Aziraphale made to reach for the macaroon, but Crowley pulled it away. 

Crowley leveled his angel with a knowing look. "Do you not want to be fed, angel? Or do you just think that you shouldn't want it?"

Aziraphale's face redened. He did sort of want Crowley to hand feed him that macaroon, and wasn't that gratuitously unnecessary and self-indulgent of him? 

Crowley crawled up and plopped his diapered bottom in the angel's lap. He looked at Aziraphale with a little pout. "Please Papa?"

Aziraphale knew what Crowley was doing, making it seem like a favor to him and not a treat for Aziraphale, but he opened his mouth anyway and Crowley grinned. (His demon was so good to him. So very achingly good. Aziraphale was going to buy him the contents of every toy story in London, and give him all the tummy rubs, because it was about time someone rewarded Crowley for being such a little darling.) After a few bites of rather delicious macaroon, Aziraphale leveled his Little with a look. (This look was not nearly as serious as Aziraphale intended it to be, instead it came out more fond than anything else.) "You can't just call me Papa and get your way forever, you know." (This was a blalant lie and they both knew it.)

Crowley just gave another snakey grin. 

"But,” Aziraphale continued, “thank you very much all the same, my dear."

Crowley, who didn't like to be thanked, (mostly because he didn't think he deserved it, looking after Aziraphale, after all, was a privilege, not a chore) blushed and squirmed, making his plastic pants crinkle and his angel look at him disgustingly fondly. 

Crowley huffed and took out another macaroon. 

It was absolutely sinful, to lay here in bed like this and let a demon feed him pastries. It was sloth and gluttony, and it was absolutely delightful.


	135. Chapter 135

"Absolutely not,” Crowley crossed his arms and glared. 

"Really, dearest, so much fuss over something so small. It would be much better for you to ride in the stroller. You're not quite back to full health and I should hate you to get overtired."

"No,” Crowley said resolutely. 

"Oh, I did think we were over this. Crowley, no one will mind that you're Little."

"It isn't that, angel! People will think that I'm Littler than the twins. They won't be in strollers!"

Aziraphale blinked. He couldn't quite follow Crowley's logic on this, and had absolutely no idea why it seemed to be so important to the demon that people not think he was any Littler than the twins. In truth, he had rather been relying on Crowley being in the stroller so that he could lean against it as they walked. While Aziraphale had made signifcant improvements in his recovery since he finished molting. He still was hardly, as they said, “up to snuff.” However, Aziraphale most definitely didn't want to tell Crowley this. He didn't want his baby doing something he didn't want to do (even if he didn't want to do it for foolish reasons) just for Aziraphale's sake. Crowley certainly had done enough of that already. 

"I have it,” said Jack, who had been eavesdropping while he sat on the sofa, knitting some milky brown and orange abomination. (No one could currently tell what the thing was meant to be. Aziraphale thought it was a sweater. Helena thought it was a scarf. The twins thought it was a blanket. And Crowley thought it should be pitched into the fire.) 

He picked up Crowley and placed him in the stroller, the demon wiggled and whined in protest. "Trust me, I have an idea."

It wasn't that Crowley didn't trust Jack, it was just that Jack was sort of...mentally negligible. The last idea he had had involved a bucket of dead mice and car battery and it hadn't ended well. (They had been scraping tiny little organs off the ceiling for ages.)

Jack came back carrying a twin; he plopped the twin down in the stroller next to Crowley. "There, you both fit nicely. You can both ride in the stroller."

Aziraphale shared a look with Crowley. It was a surprisingly good solution. And the twin was perfectly happy to snuggle up with Crowley in his neat stroller. It was comfy and had stars on the inside and toys that jingled when you batted at them. Why wouldn't you want to ride in it? 

"Hey! What about me?" 

As per usual, one twin was closely behind the other, and was now standing in the doorway with their arms crossed, looking very betrayed. 

"Err...,” said Aziraphale, “I don't think all three of you will fit, dear."

"How ‘bout this," Jack offered, “I carry you on the way there, then you can trade places on the way back."

The twins both nodded; it was a suitable compromise. So, diaper bags packed and coats put on, they headed out into the London streets. 

They hadn't told the Littles where they were going, but halfway there the twin's heads both shot up like dogs who had heard a dog whistle. In perfect unison they said, "We're going to the toy store."

"How on earth did you...,” Aziraphale stopped himself. He had found that with his new friends it was often just better to accept them as they were rather than ask silly questions like "how" or "why" or "is that three-eyed fetal pig in a jar you've placed in my refrigerator still alive? I could swear I saw it twitching a moment ago."

It was almost worth it, anyway, to see the growing excitement on Crowley's face. (He was trying very hard to act like he didn't care, because obviously he was too cool to be excited, but he was failing miserably.) 

Once they got to the brightly colored shop, the twins wasted no time in pulling a willing Crowley towards the toys. Jack went with them because he liked to look at the little anatomical models with squishy removable organs. 

Eddie wandered off towards the section with movies and Gregor went with him after noting how reluctant Eddie seemed to leave the group. (Eddie was just the teensiest bit paranoid that they would just leave the shop and not tell him. His mother had done that to him on multiple occasions when he was a child. This, however, was a family Eddie didn't want to be free from.) 

Helena and Aziraphale were a bit more aimless in their wandering. They stopped by dinnerwares to pick up a couple of new bottles. They were making their way to the diaper section when Aziraphale spotted a familiar leather trench coat. It couldn't be, he thought. Then he spied the lizard perched atop the short black curls. He tried to calculate the likelihood of it being a totally inoccent human who just happened to be out buying Little supplies with his pet chameleon perched on his head. Then, the person turned around and yellow eyes met Aziraphale's blue ones. 

It was Ligur. Aziraphale knew who he was, of course, and while they had never had a conversation, he knew the demon by sight. Unfortunately, it seemed Ligur also knew him by sight, because there was a flicker of shock in the yellow eyes that beheld the angel. 

Aziraphale didn't know what diabolical plan the demon had in store, but he was certainly going to put a stop to it here and now. Though, Aziraphale wasn't quite certain what sort of diabolical plan involved a frog plushie and a pair of sippy cups covered in multicolored lizards. 

Slowly, a realization dawned on the angel. He looked up from the items in Ligur's arms to the demon's slightly guilty looking face. "You have a Little?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if anyone's interested but I made mood boards for each of the mirror wraiths and they're up on my tumblr now, which is damageddolly666.


	136. Chapter 136

Ligur definitely wasn't a Little. Aziraphale knew that for certain. (It wasn't a very certain certainty, keeping in mind he had once said the same thing about Crowley, who was a very little Little indeed.) 

Ligur looked guarded. "And what would you do if I did?"

"Oh...well...nothing, I suppose. I don't have any affiliation with Heaven or Hell and I certainly wouldn't expose a Little even if I did. Even if...,” and here Aziraphale was taking a very educated guess, “that Little was someone particularly loathsome like Hastur."

Ligur made a sound that was neither pleased nor displeased. "And you are Crowley's caretaker?"

"Yes,” Aziraphale answered, somewhat cautiously. Ligur certainly didn't seem angry at Crowley the way Hastur had been, which was a bit odd considering Crowley had quite literally killed him. 

"And you," Hastur turned to Helena, "I can tell you are neither angel nor demon, but not human either. Do you have a Little?"

"Two,” replied Helena, who was growing more interested in the conversation by the second. 

Ligur looked at Aziraphale and Helena, seemingly searching for something in them, and he must have found it because he took a deep breath and continued on. "If I did, hypothetically, have a Little, and it was, hypothetically, Hastur, and Hastur was...acting out. What advice might you give?"

"I should imagine he's acting out; does he do anything else?" 

Ligur asking for caregiving advice, the absolute gall. Though, come to think of it, Aziraphale and Helena were now probably the only people besides Ligur himself who knew Hastur was a Little. Ligur probably didn't have anyone else to ask. Aziraphale couldn't imagine him confiding in, say, Beelzebub. Aziraphale imagined the summation of any advice Beelzebub would give would be, “figure it out yourself and leave me alone." (This was not inaccurate, except it left out a few swear words.) 

Helena's reply was a bit more helpful. "Acting out how, sweetie?"

"Everything has changed since I...got back. Hypothetically, Hastur has been rather difficult, he's been having tantrums and sulking, and he pushes me away when I try to comfort him. Alternately, he won't let me leave and throws an absolute fit everytime I so much as leave his sight. It's rather frustrating. In addition, he's begun wetting himself for attention." Ligur's face twisted as he looked off into the distance. "I'm worried for him. I'm worried for us."

"Are you certain the wetting is deliberate?"

"Yes, Hastur isn't a particularly good actor."

"Have you tried punishing him?"

"Maybe a good spanking?" Aziraphale chimed in. He usually didn't philosophically condone spanking unless it was very, very consensual. However, for Hastur and what he had done to his baby, he was more than happy to make an exception. He hoped Ligur bruised Hastur's bottom black and blue. 

"I've tried that,” Ligur grimaced. “It makes no difference; he just whines about it being an accident and that I'm unfair, then he goes off on a sulk, and then the whole thing starts over again. He clearly wants a spanking, but then he just does it again. I've tried different punishments; I gave him a bath, I've made him sit in the corner. I've even tried not punishing him and acting as if it was of no concern at all....He seems very far away from me, and I don't like it...hypothetically."

Aziraphale felt a spark of sympathy for the demon. He had often felt the same way with Crowley in the beginning. Ligur must feel terribly desperate to confide his (hypothetical) problems in an angel who was technically his mortal enemy and a mirror wraith he had just met. Aziraphale felt rather unqualified to give advice to the distressed demon, after all he had just barely figured out how to navigate Crowley's needs. And Hastur was a much more complicated and troubled case than his own dear demon. So Aziraphale did the sensible thing and looked to Helena. 

Helena did not disappoint. "Your Little clearly wants attention. So why don't you give it to him?"

"I have been,” said Ligur, sourly. 

Unruffled by Ligur's interruption, Helena continued. “Play along with him; he insists he is having accidents? Then treat him exactly as you would if he was having accidents."

"You mean...?"

Helena gave a semi-wicked smile. “Yes.”

Ligur blinked; he hadn't though of that. "Hastur would hate that...” Or maybe he would like it; it was extremely hard to tell with Hastur as he often pretend to hate things he liked (such as naps and having his hair stroked) and like things he hated (such as War and Hellhounds and any hard alcohol that wasn't mixed with something sweet.) 

"Well, if he does, then all he'd have to do to get out of it would be to admit that he was weeing on purpose. You win either way."

"That,” said Ligur, “is absolutely devious. Are you certain you're not a demon?"

"Fairly certain,” replied Helena, smiling. 

"If you ever want a career in evil, call me. Beelzebub would be happy to have such a cunning mind on her side."

"While I'm perfectly happy where I am, I shall keep that in mind."

Helena gently placed a hand on Ligur's shoulder. This surprised Ligur, casual touch that wasn't shoving someone out of your way wasn't really a thing in Hell. "Do remember," she said, gently but firmly, "to make certain he knows you love him; whatever else you do that is the most crucial."

Ligur nodded, not knowing what to say and not trusting his voice even if he did. After a few moments Helena's hand dropped and Ligur tuned away. He had quite a few more things to get, and he really should be getting home to Hell and to Hastur. 

He walked a few feet away, then paused and looked back towards the angel and the wraith. "Thank you,” he said in a low rumble that, had they not been supernatural creatures, they might not have heard.


	137. Chapter 137

Ligur was not surprised to the sight he came home to. 

Hastur and Ligur's bed was nestled in an alcove with smooth grey stone walls on three sides. Hastur was curled up against the farthest wall, his back to Ligur. The demon would bet that there was a thumb tucked in Hastur's mouth and a ratty blanket clutched in Hastur's fist. 

A few steps into the bedroom, and a strong stench of urine filled Ligur's nose. 

He set his bags down on the small, slightly decrepit (as most things in Hell were) sofa and rummaged through them, taking things out and getting some of his purchases ready for what was to come. (It should be noted that "purchases" may not be a completely accurate term. Ligur had purchased none of it. He had just made certain that no one would notice it missing.) 

"You came back,” came a voice from the bed; it sounded more like an accusation than a question. 

"Yes, I did say that I would,” Ligur replied. “Not that you would care. What was it you said? Ah yes, that I could ‘fucking get lost and stay lost for all you gave a shit.’”

"I don't care,” bit out Hastur, but neither of them believed it. 

"I have a present for you."

Hastur rolled over and opened one black eye to look at Ligur curiously. Ligur approached the bed, sack in hand, and sat down on a part he thought probably wasn't wet. He pulled out the large plush frog and held it out to Hastur. 

"I don't need a toy, Ligur,” Hastur said the word “toy” the same way one might say "rotting, putrescent infection,” but Ligur could see the hungry look in his eyes as he stared at the plush. 

"Well," Ligur shrugged, “If you don't want it, I'll throw it away."

The plush was snatched out of his hands before he could blink. "You gave it to me. It's mine! You can't fucking throw him away."

Ligur smiled as Hastur clutched the plushie close. He was glad the toy had gone over well. Hastur had always been very insistent about not needing any Little things. Besides his very ratty and well loved blanket, they had one glass baby bottle, only ever used for very, very special occasions. 

Things had changed since Ligur had come back, however. Hastur was both more troubled and more Little than Ligur had ever seen him. He had made the executive decision that he was going to try something new, for both Hastur's sake and his own. It turned out that Hastur wasn't nearly as against plush toys as he had claimed to be. 

This next thing Ligur was going to do, he predicted Hastur giving a far less warm reception to. 

He drew back the covers in the bed, unsurprised to find two large wet patches. One on his side of the bed and one on Hastur's. Ligur rather suspected that the wet spot on his side had been made shortly after he had left. Hastur had always had a habit of pissing on Ligur's belongings, or even Ligur himself, when he was mad at him. 

Ligur had always wondered if it was a bit of a toad thing, this sort of self-defense peeing. If Hastur felt hurt by Ligur he would pee on things, which was what made this constant wetting so worrying. Hastur was hurt and Ligur didn't know exactly how Hastur was hurt or how to fix it. And Hastur would definitely not be telling him anytime soon. Or ever. 

Ligur could feel Hastur watching him intently, waiting for a reaction. Ligur miracled the bedsheets clean. (While not exactly a fastidious demon by any means, Ligur certainly wasn't going to live in the squallor that Hastur would have them in, given half the chance.) "I'm not mad," he told Hastur, “and I'm not going to punish you. It was an accident." Ligur stressed the word 'accident.’ “In fact, I would like to apologize for punishing you before. After all, you can't help it." Maybe Ligur was laying it on a little thick, but Hastur wasn't the kind to pick up on subtly. 

Speaking of Hastur, he was now staring at Ligur, somehow managing to look smug and suspicious at the same time. 

Ligur continued. “From now on, absolutely no more spankings for peeing; so instead I got you something that will help with your accidents."

Hastur now looked wholly suspicious. His suspicion proved fruitful when Ligur took what was obviously a cloth diaper out from the bag. (The modern Velcro kind.) 

"No fucking way. Ligur, you bastard. No. I'm not wearing a fucking diaper."

"It's not a diaper; they're special pants for Little boys who have accidents, and you have been having accidents, haven't you?" Ligur had made the decision not to ever refer to Hastur's diapers as diapers. He thought it might make the whole process a bit easier. (It should be noted that Ligur's hopes for this strategy were not particularly high.) 

Hastur didn't answer Ligur's question, he just crawled as far away on the bed from Ligur as he could possibly get, clutched his frog and glared. Needless to say, the actual process of getting the diaper on Hastur was not easy. 

Ligur ended up sitting on Hastur's chest and pinning his arms down with his legs while he slightly awkwardly lotioned, powdered, and diapered the demon. Ligur had been a soldier in heaven, created for strength and stamina, and he fairly easly overpowered Hastur. 

He made certain to keep Hastur's hands free. Early on in their relationship, Ligur had insisted on having some sort of signal that meant Hastur really wanted or needed to stop whatever was going on. Since Hastur's "no's" seemed to mean "yes" just as much as they actually meant "no.” And since Hastur was terrible at saying things, Ligur had come up with the idea that he would snap his fingers instead. Hastur had only done this two times since it had been implemented and it seemed he wasn't going to make it a third today. 

Ligur finished snapping up Hastur's plastic pants and got up off his Little demon's chest. Hastur scrambled back to the very far side of the bed after, of course, calling Ligur a few choice names. 

Ligur sat down and looked at Hastur. "I'm not trying to be cruel. You can't keep wetting on yourself” (and me, Ligur didn't add) “you're getting rashes. The special pants will help. If you have an accident, I'll change you, and if you need the bathroom, just tell me and I'll take your special pants off." Ligur patted Hastur's knee, which got him a "fuck you" for the trouble. 

"Besides,” continued Ligur. "I intend to make it up to you; wait right here and I promise something nice. But Hastur...don't take off your special pants. Do you hear me, little toad? I won't spank you for having accidents, but I will spank you for taking off your special pants." Ligur patted Hastur's knee one last time and began to walk over to the sofa he had deposited his shopping on. He got about three feet before he heard Velcro ripping. He turned around again to face his naughty little toad. 


	138. Chapter 138

In a couple of strides, Ligur was back to the bed and lifting up the misbehaving demon to place across his knee. 

Hastur had unsnapped his plastic pants and they were now lying on the bed. He hadn't, however, got very far with undoing his diaper, and Ligur left it on. Hastur had a habit of peeing on him during spankings. Ligur wasn't certain if they were genuine accidents, or if it was Hastur's way of protesting his spanking, or if Hastur just really liked peeing on Ligur. A few swats in and he felt the diapered crotch on his lap grow warm. Hastur didn't seem particularly pleased that his peeing hadn't soiled Ligur's lap like it usually did. 

Hastur got spanked a lot. Ligur didn't think he enjoyed the spanking so much as what came after. After spankings Hastur was limp and pliable, he didn't fight or swear or protest, he just let Ligur hold him. It was the only time Ligur ever got to hold Hastur. 

About halfway through the spanking Ligur paused, his hand set gently on Hastur's bottom. “Your spanking is almost done, do you still want your special pants off?" Hastur having his diaper off would, of course, mean that Hastur would continue his spanking bare-bottomed. And the diaper would be going right back on afterwards. There was a pause...and then a "no" that sounded like Hastur had chewed it up before he spit it out. 

Ligur rubbed Hastur's back under his undershirt. "That was a good decision, little toad. I'm proud of you." He pretend not to notice the dark blush that spread across Hastur's pale face. "Now only five more smacks, since you were such a clever boy and made a clever decision."

Hastur grumbled and wiggled, but didn't fight as Ligur finished his spanking. Then Ligur gathered Hastur up in his arms and they sat there for a while, Hastur's head resting on Ligur's shoulder, as Ligur rocked them back and fourth. He told Hastur that he still loved him, even if he was a naughty boy. (It should be noted that Ligur had to love Hastur when he was naughty, for if he only loved him when he was well-behaved then he would never love him at all.) 

After a while Ligur regrettably decided that Hastur's soggy diaper ought to be changed. He picked up Hastur and put him on his arm as he got the supplies. He had fully expected Hastur to struggle and protest and want down like he always had before, but to his absolute shock and delight, he didn't. For the first time in their relationship Ligur got to carry his little toad, and he was almost reluctant to finally put him down on the changing mat. 

Hastur didn't fight Ligur during the diaper change either, which almost slightly worried Ligur; it wasn't like his little toad at all to be so well-behaved. Hastur just laid back, watching Ligur intently, sucking on his thumb, and looking pouty. 

"I thought,” said Ligur, while snapping up Hastur's plastic pants, “since I knew you wouldn't care for wearing your special pants very much, that I'd make it up to you." Hastur narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Ligur continued, “Wait here a moment, little toad.” Hastur glared at him and aggressively sucked his thumb, probably not fond of being left lying on a changing mat in diapers, looking for all the world like the darling little baby that Ligur knew deep, deep, deep, down he really was. 

Ligur filled a sippy cup and took out a very well worn leather bound book from off their shelves. Grimm’s Fairy Tales, the original versions, where evil step-sisters got their eyes pecked out by birds and step-mothers chopped up little boys to feed to their fathers. He picked up Hastur and sat beside him on the bed. Hastur had never sat in Ligur's lap while they read stories (because according to Hastur he wasn't Little and definitely didn't want to.) Hastur had always sat at a respectable distance of a few inches from Ligur when he read. It was close enough to see the illustrations, but not close enough to look like he wanted any affection from Ligur whatsoever. 

Ligur handed Hastur the sippy cup. Hastur didn't take it, he just glared at it. “It's got vodka and orange juice in it,” Ligur said. (Hastur refused to drink anything that didn't have an alcoholic content.) The sippy cuppy was summarily snatched out of Ligur's grasp. Ligur gave Haster a warning look as one of his little toad's hands went to the lid, begining to twist it off. "If you twist the lid off, you'll spill it all down your front,” (Hastur drank and ate like he did almost everything else, very messily) “then I'll have to give you another spanking."

The hand left the sippy cup lid, and when Ligur turned back to the book, he heard the sounds of sucking. 

They read "The Strange Feast,” “Rapunzel,” “The Girl With No Hands,” and "The Three Snake Leaves.” By the time they had gotten to "The Juniper Tree,” the sippy cup had fallen to the floor as Hastur's head fell against Ligur's shoulder. The little toad was asleep and snuffling behind the thumb in his mouth. Ligur maneuvered Hastur to his side of the bed. He checked that Hastur's diaper was still dry, and made sure he had his blanket and plush frog. He thought about getting one of the pacifiers he had bought and replacing Hastur's (probably dirty) thumb with it. But he decided that Hastur had had quite enough change for today. So he just tucked his little toad in and got into bed himself. 

Hastur usually slept curled into a self protective little ball as far away from Ligur as the bed would allow. But tonight he lay on his side, stretched out a little from his usual fetal position. The hand that held his blankie even stretched out so far as to almost touch Ligur. Ligur tentatively reached out to stroke the back of that pale hand. Tonight had been...special. Ligur hadn't felt, or even been this physically close, to Hastur for such an extended period of time for so long. Ligur missed it. He missed his little toad. But tonight Hastur seemed to have loosened up just a little, allowed himself to slip just a bit further into Little space. Was it the diapers? The spanking? The extended storytime? Ligur wasn't quite sure, but he could only hope it continued.


	139. Chapter 139

Ligur woke up before Hastur. He took a long, languid moment to look at his little toad. He was curled up around his plush frog, his thumb tucked in his mouth, his blanket griped tightly in a fist. Hastur's face was lax and unburded with the lines of tension that plauged him when he was awake. It took years off of Hastur's corporation, and gave him a sweet, almost boyish, look under his mop of white hair. 

Ligur loved Hastur very much. He hadn't meant to, and maybe he wasn't supposed to. But as no one had ever told him specifically, “as a good demon you can't love your troubled and slightly unpleasant demon partner who is also secretly a Little,” Ligur went on ahead and loved him. He knew, however, from the very beginning that loving Hastur would require patience and work. Hastur was, after all, very conflicted and confusing, and very, very hurt. But Ligur was a patient creature, and he liked the rewards reaped from patiently working on something and watching it slowly come to fruition. 

He had already seen that Hastur loved him. Not that the demon had ever said the words out loud. But he did often do Ligur's paperwork for him while he slept. (Ligur hated paperwork. He found it unbearably tedious, and much preferred work that would actually produce a result once it was done.) And Ligur found things he liked often appeared in the apartment they shared. A new coat, or his favorite kind of brandy, or a lovely, sharp, little filleting knife made with metal that had been forged in Hellfire. Hastur would pretend that he had nothing to do with these gifts, but Ligur thanked him anyway, which always made Hastur blush, turn away, and tell him to "fuck off." Ligur had found that in the language of Hastur, this was almost as good as saying: "I love you too Ligur, I just can't say it or I'll probably spontaneously combust and discorporate on the spot." It was certainly good enough for Ligur. 

The covers had slipped down to Hastur's waist, so Ligur pulled them down just a little farther to check on the state of Hastur's diaper. It was wet, which didn't surprise Ligur all that much. Hastur wet the bed two or three times a week. (And that was just what Ligur knew about.) Ligur knew that these were indeed genuine accidents, as opposed to most of Hastur's peeing. When Hastur meant to have an "accident" he was smug and smiling. When he'd genuinely wet the bed he was defensive, snippy, and moody for the rest of the day. 

Hastur had taken great care to hide his bed-wetting in the begining. It had taken Ligur half a century to even find out about it, as Hastur mostly just refused to ever sleep. It had taken the rest of the century to convince Hastur that he didn't mind and he wasn't going to humiliate him for it. 

Ligur stroked a tuft of white hair out of his little toad's face, then he got up to prepare Hastur a sippy cup. When he got back, Hastur was just starting to stir. Curious to see what would happen, Ligur ducked into a dark corner hidden from view by the dusty green velvet curtains that covered their wardrobe. 

Ligur liked to hide, and watch. You learned so much that way. Mostly things you weren't supposed to know, but those were, in Ligur's opinion, the best sort of things you could know. 

Maybe it was a little bit dishonest, spying on someone he loved, but Ligur was a demon, after all. And it wasn't like he'd ever use what information he gained to hurt Hastur; just the opposite, in fact. (It should be noted that this was a policy reserved for Hastur and only Hastur. Ligur would be more than happy to blackmail or shame literally anyone else given the slightest provocation.) 

Ligur watched as Hastur woke up, taking his thumb out of his mouth with a wet pop to rub his sleep encrusted eyes. He sat up, wiggling out of the covers. As the blankets fell down they exposed his diaper and he stared at it. Hastur didn't seem particularly bothered by it, he didn't scowl or try and rip it off again; his expression was more...curious. 

He poked the obviously wet diaper. Then he wiggled around a bit, as if examining how it felt. He got up on his knees and stared as the diaper sagged down between them. Hastur then stuck his thumb in his mouth and began to suck. 

He seem to be concentrating on something. Ligur heard Hastur give a little grunt, (which he would say was rather adorable, if Ligur was the type of demon to say things were adorable) then a faint hissing sound. Hastur was...Hastur was wetting his diaper. On purpose, definitely on purpose. 

He heard Hastur give a sigh. Then he watched as the demon poked at his diaper a little more, looking quite satisfied with himself, then gathered up his frog plush and crawled back under the covers. 

Ligur blinked, then he blinked again, it gave his something to do while he gathered his thoughts. Did Hastur like his diapers? Did he want to wear them? Even if he didn't technically need to, at least in the daytime? Was this what Hastur had been trying to get with his constant wetting? 

Ligur caught himself thinking, ‘he could have just asked,’ but this was Hastur, wasn't it? He couldn't just ask. For whatever reason Hastur couldn't just verbally ask. So, Ligur supposed Hastur asked in other ways, with his (usually bad) behavior. 

It didn't matter in the end, Ligur supposed. Whatever way it had come about, Ligur now knew what Hastur wanted (or needed, Ligur wasn't quite sure.) And Ligur was going to make certain Hastur had it


	140. Chapter 140

When he was certain that Hastur was back asleep, he snuck back out. Then he came back into the bedroom, deliberately making his footfalls heavier than they usually were to alert the dozing Hastur to his entrance. Hastur didn't get up, or even turn around to face Ligur, he just grunted something that sounded suspiciously like, “go away."

Ligur did not go away. He never did. Oh, sometimes he would give Hastur a little space when he was in a particularly moody mood. But Ligur never left all together. Ligur had figured out fairly early on that people in Hastur's life hadn't left him, simply because they had never been there in the first place. No one, not in Heaven or Hell, had ever wanted anything to do with the ill-tempered and unfavorable Hastur. So when Ligur showed some interest in sticking around, obviously Hastur didn't trust it to last. 

But Ligur would stay. Hastur could pee on him and tell him to ‘fuck off’ all he pleased, and Ligur would stay. He had done what no one else before him had done, he had seen something in Hastur worth staying for. Certainly, it was burried under multiple layers of self-defense, swearing, tantrums, and rather aggressive peeing, but it was there all the same. 

He gently tugged the blankets down, exposing Hastur's diapered bottom. "Looks like you leaked, little frog."

Hastur, suddenly much more awake, crawled as far away from Ligur as he could. Undeterred, Ligur crawled after Hastur, picking him up by the waist and managing to deposit Hastur on the changing mat. Hastur tried again to make his escape, but a firm smack to the thigh and a threat of another trip over Ligur's knee stilled the wiggling demon. 

Now that he knew Hastur liked his diapers, Ligur took extra time and care in changing him. Before, he had done the job swiftly and methodically. Now, he carefully took his time wiping Hastur down with a warm, wet cloth. He lovingly smoothed lotion, cream, and powder over his little toad. Ligur found the work both soothing and thrilling, he never imagined he would be able to do this without a fight from Hastur. Yet here his little toad was, lying on his back, sucking on his sippy cup, eyes hooded and glassy, cheeks red. He looked torn between pleasure and shame. There was nothing Ligur could do to make the shame go away, he knew. If he mentioned it to Hastur, told him it was alright he liked his diapers, Hastur would do what Hastur always did; deny everything, have a tantrum, and not speak to Hastur for an extended period of time. 

Ligur had once took Hastur aside after a string of incidents where Hastur had become unreasonably "clumsy,” falling and bumping into Ligur with a strange regularity, even once falling into Ligur's lap; and tried to inform him that it was perfectly alright if Hastur wanted the occasional touch or cuddle. Ligur, of course, would be happy to oblige. You would have thought that Ligur was accusing him of being caught making friendship bracelets for all of the Archangels the way he carried on. "How dare Ligur accuse him of such a thing?" He had then proceeded to throw a massive tantrum, pee on Ligur's favorite coat, and not speak or come near to Ligur more than absolutely necessary for the next year. 

Needless to say, Ligur would not be making the same mistake again. This time he intended to show Hastur what he wanted was all very alright. Encouraged, even. 

Ligur had doubled the amount of absorbent padding in Hastur’s cloth diapers after Hastur had leaked. He carefully affixed them onto his little toad, and snapped his plastic pants over his diaper. 

Hastur, who had been fluctuating between tense and relaxed the entire time, seemed to have finally settled on relaxed. Ligur took a liberty and snuck his hand up to rub Hastur's tummy over the waistband of his plastic pants. Hastur let out a strangled moan behind the empty sippy cup, as black eyes rolled up in his head. It was an almost alarmingly intense reaction for a simple touch, but this was Hastur they were talking about. He was so starved of any attention or affection that any bit he allowed himself to have must feel overwhelming. 

Staring down at his baby toad, Ligur decided to take a chance. He miracled up Hastur's bottle full of spiced rum and milk. Then carefully he maneuvered Hastur into his arms. The demon was a comforting weight in his lap, Ligur hadn't quite realized untill this moment how much he wanted this as well. 

He made certain that Hastur had his froggy and his blanket. Then he gently tugged the empty sippy cup out of Hastur's mouth and replaced it with the nipple of the bottle. Ligur was greatly pleased when Hastur latched on and began sucking immediately. 

If Ligur had been the type of demon to cry, or even, in fact, possessed tear ducts at all, he might have felt a couple of tears trickle down his cheeks. As it was, Ligur just felt an overwhelming feeling of rightness. This is what he had been working towards all these hundreds of years, and it felt far better that he could have possibly imagined. There was a little grunt from behind the bottle and Ligur heard a faint hissing as Hastur's eyes fluttered closed and a faint bit of pink painted it's way across his cheeks. One pale hand snaked up to fist itself in Ligur's shirt, and though Ligur couldn't actually cry, he may have choked back a sob as he brushed white hair away from his little toad's face.


	141. Chapter 141

Eventually the bottle was finished and Hastur drifted off to sleep in Ligur's arms. Ligur replaced the nipple of the bottle in Hastur's mouth with a dark green pacifier with a picture of a happy little frog on it. Ligur stuck his finger in one of the leg holes of the plastic pants and checked Hastur's diaper. It was wet, but not enough to require an immediate changing. Ligur was rather glad; a diaper change would probably wake the little toad up, and Ligur would much prefer to stay like this for a while longer. 

Being nonexistent had left Ligur with a lingering chill that had taken up residence deep down in the marrow of his bones, one that the hottest hellfire couldn’t banish. This, though, holding Hastur in his arms like this, eased the ache. It made him feel real and here - which were things he had found himself rather concerned with lately. Hastur snuggled in his sleep and wriggled closer to Ligur. 

He couldn't believe how relaxed his little toad was in his arms. Diapering Hastur had seemed to satiate some deep need inside of him. Ligur wondered why Hastur had put up such a fuss about wearing diapers if he had wanted then so much. It was a bit like the bath. All the time Ligur had known Hastur, he had bitched about how much he hated baths, or just washing in general. Ligur, making a valiant attempt to respect Hastur's decisions, had simply kept him to it, and not pushed the matter, even when they stared sharing a bed. Ligur had gotten used to the odd mossy smell Hastur produced after a while. He thought ever actually getting the demon in a tub would be a fight he wasn't likely to win. 

Then a while ago, when Hastur had thoroughly peed himself just seconds after Ligur had asked him if he needed to go to the bathroom to relive himself and Hastur has said "no.” In what Ligur thought would be a pointed and memorable punishment, he had conjured up a tub of warm water and deposited Hastur in it. Despite a lifetime of very vocal protests about bathing, when Hastur was actually in a bathtub he stuck his thumb in his mouth and went quiet and still and let Ligur wash him with minimal fighting. He fussed a bit when Ligur scrubbed particularly hard but otherwise the demon seemed shockingly content. 

He even made adorable little mewling sounds when Ligur had rubbed shampoo into his hair. By the time he had gotten out, Hastur was a bonless pile of contented demon, and went right to sleep. (He wet the bed almost immediately, which really did sort of negate the point of the bath, but Ligur found himself more fondly amused than irritated.) 

Thinking about the two incidents, the diapers and the bath, made something click in Ligur's head and suddenly he understood something about Hastur he never had before. 

When Hastur wanted something very badly, he pretended to not want it (very vehemently) but made it so he needed it in hopes that someone (in almost all cases that someone being Ligur) would make him do it. If Hastur just asked there was a possibly he would be rejected, but if Ligur made him do it Hastur knew with certainty that it was alright. 

Hastur also wouldn't just take a bath himself or get himself diapers or feed himself a bottle because that wasn't what he wanted. It seemed to be very important that Ligur was the one to do it, which made Ligur feel things, odd warm things, squirming deep down inside his chest. 

Ligur had always let Hasur take the lead when it came to his having Little time, which more often than not resulted in there being no Little time. But that didn't seem to be what Hastur wanted or needed at all. He needed Ligur to take charge. And Ligur was more than happy to do so. Under his rule there would definitely be more cuddles (not that Ligur would ever say the word cuddles aloud, mind you) and bottle feedings, and Hastur would take a bath at least often enough to stop literal mold from growing on him. From now on, Hastur would sit in his lap when they read stories. And Hastur was definitely staying in diapers. Ligur was enjoying having a wet Hastur and a dry lap. 

Of course, if Hastur really didn't like something, Ligur would stop it immediately, but somehow he highly doubt any of the aforementioned activities would be vehemently apposed. 

Sleepy black eyes blinked open and stared up at Ligur. "There's my Little toad.” Ligur tickled Hastur's tummy where his shirt had ridden up. He had little doubt that the action resulted in not only laughing from Hasur but a slightly wetter diaper as well. "Now, we're going to have a diaper change, and then I'm going to get you a sippy cup, and we're going to have special time, and read a story. How's that sound?"

Hastur narrowed his eyes. “Not a diaper," he said in what was clearly meant to be a menacing tone. Ligur chuckled. The thick absorbent garment now hanging between Hastur's legs soaked with toady piddle was definitely not a diaper, an unforgivable error on his part. He placed a kiss on Hastur's forhead, which seemed to surprise and confuse the demon. "Of course they're not diapers, my mistake," Ligur replied looking down at his grumpy, ill tempered little toad with infinite fondness. “They're special pants for my special little toad."

This seemed to placate Hastur, who was carried in a rather loving embrace over to the changing table with no further fussing whatsoever.


	142. Chapter 142

Hastur and Ligur's new, rather peaceful, existence was brought to a rather abrupt halt the next morning. 

They had had a lovey day the day before. Hastur had spent the day in an odd sort of very content and sleepy haze. It was the first time since Ligur had known Hastur that he wasn't actively fighting literally everything. 

Ligur had even brought out some of his other purchases, drawing supplies, which ranged from fat sparkly crayons to expensive colored pencils. Hastur was a very good artist. He liked to go to Earth specially to loiter in bogs and swamps to watch toads and frogs and make detailed sketches of them. Hastur had books full of these drawings that Ligur had seen exactly once. Shortly after finding it under the bed, (under the bed was the not-so-secret hiding place that Hastur thought Ligur didn't know about) the book he had been looking at was summarily ripped out of his hands and cradled to Hastur's chest, as if the demon had been afraid that Ligur had some nefarious plans for it. Ligur wondered if someone had, at some point, had nefarious plans for some of Hastur's art, and probably followed through on them. If Ligur ever found out who it was that put such absolute terror on his baby toad's face when he saw someone with his sketches, he would make them eat their own eyeballs. 

He thought that maybe when Hastur was Little, he might be able to coax him into doing a bit of drawing. He wanted to be able to praise Hastur's drawing skills; he highly doubted anyone had ever done it before. 

Ligur spread the art suplies out. Hastur made no move to use any of them; he just watched with mounting suspicion. Instead, Ligur picked up a green crayon and began to drag it across the paper. Hastur's eyes narrowed. Eventually the Little gave in. "What is it?"

"A frog,” Ligur smiled up at Hastur. Admittedly, the green blob with black eyes was a bit hard to identify as anything, really. 

"Where are it's legs? Frog eyes don't look like that. You've done it all wrong."

"Then show me how."

Hastur snatched the green crayon away from Ligur and began to draw, imperiously explaining every bit of a frogs anatomy and why Ligur had gotten it so wrong to him as he worked. 

Feeling satisfied, Ligur sat back. He knew if anything could get Hastur's interest, it was frogs. Hastur was the only demon he had ever met that actually, truly enjoyed the animal he had been fuzed with after the Fall. Most demons had just come to a grudging peace with it, or like Ligur simply didn't care. But Hastur loved being a toad, and his love extended to all things amphibious or cold-blooded. He was particularly fond of Ligur's lizard as well. Ligur rather suspected that Hastur believed that his toad nature was the best part of himself. It was certainly the only part of himself that Hastur had ever shown any liking for. 

Hastur had drawn a chameleon and a toad sat together in a garden. It was an exquisitely detailed scene. The more Ligur looked at it the more he realized that it was meant to be them, Hastur and himself, in their respective animal forms. Ligur praised the drawing to the high Heavens he had Fallen from. Both because it was very skilled work of art and because Ligur thought Hastur could do with some praising, just in general. Hastur responded to this the way he responded to all praise: by blushing, grumbling, and looking at Ligur very, very suspiciously. 

Ligur then stripped his little toad of his soggy diaper and deposited him in a tub of warm water. Hastur didn't really need a bath, he certainly hadn't acquired a new layer of filth since the last one. Ligur only thought his little toad might enjoy it, and it seemed he was right. Hastur wiggled down into the tub so that only his eyes and a shock of white hair were visible. 

The bath also gave Ligur a chance to introduce some of the rubber frogs, lizards, alligators, salamanders, snakes, and toads that he had purchased. Hastur was delighted (and that was a word that Ligur had never dreamed of using in correlation with Hastur.) They spent several hours splashing and playing in the water. Ligur happy to play his part in whatever games his little toad pleased to make up. (The water never went cold, quite simply because it wasn't allowed to.) 

Then, Hastur was lifted out and on to the changing table while he grumbled about the loss of the warm water, which Ligur was certain he would have been happy to stay in for far longer. With a nice, thick diaper and new pair of plastic pants on the Little demon, Ligur tucked Hastur into bed. 

He rounded up their beloved copy of Grimm's fairy tales and a bottle of warm milk and spiced rum for Hastur, then settled down with him in bed. It wasn't very long before Hasur's eyes were fluttering closed and Ligur was replacing the bottle with a pacifier. Then, he too, joined his little toad in slumber. 

It was only a few hours before Ligur was awoken to an arm making rather abrupt and painful contact with his face. Ever the soldier, Ligur was out of bed and ready to fight his attacker in seconds. However, his attacker was significantly less threatening than previously thought. It was only his little toad, obviously in the throws of a distressing dream, writhing and flailing on the bed. Ligur thought he would go and prepare a bottle, then gently wake up his little toad and make certain he had every comfort Ligur could provide him. But apparently, that saying about the best laid plans of mice and men applied to demons as well. 

Ligur had just finished making the bottle when he heard a blood-curdling screech from the bedroom. Ligur ran in, and was greeted by the sight of Hastur sitting on the bed on his haunches looking wild-eyed. As soon as he locked his eyes on Ligur, he let out a screech and flung his stuffed frog at him. 

Ligur ducked and slowly approached the bed, Hastur screaming at him all the while. Gently Ligur asked, "What's this all about?"

"You left! You fucking left! And I was alone! I needed you and you leeefffttttt!" Hastur then broke out in tearless sobs.

Ligur highly suspected that this was not, in fact, about him leaving the room to make a bottle. He went to embrace Hastur, who fought and kicked; he scratched and bit and beat his fists against Ligur's chest. The demon persevered and eventually he had Hastur on his lap and wrapped in his arms. He gently shushed his little toad and rocked him gently. He buried his face in Hastur's hair, telling him that he didn't mean to leave. That he wouldn't have if it had at all been his choice and he would try his damnedest never to leave again. 

Ligur had no delusions that something like this could never happen again, and if it did he couldn't...wouldn't leave his baby toad to suffer alone again. He needed to have a fail safe in place. Someone who knew about Hastur, and could look after him if the worst happened, as the worst had a tendency to do. 

Unfortunately...there was only one other demonic Little and maybe semi-willing-to-hear-Ligur-out Caregiver, that Ligur knew of.


	143. Chapter 143

“Crowley,” said one of the twins, patiently, “you have to get more than that.”

Crowley looked down at the large play tea set he had clutched in his arms. It was white with little green leaves and delicate red flowers hand-painted on it. It even had little black rims on all of the cups, and black handles. It had eight cups, which was more than enough for Crowley, the twins, and several of their dolls. In short, Crowley though it was perfect. He didn't need anything else. He didn't want to be greedy with his angel's generosity. 

As good friends, the twins, of course, could not let this stand. Crowley (and they) had been given full reign to pick out anything in the entire store. As many toys as they wanted. They had no intention whatsoever to let Crowley squander this golden opportunity. 

Edgar and Ellen placed their monster doll making kits in the cart and each slung an arm around Crowley's neck. “Look,” said Edgar (or was it Ellen?), gesturing out at the aisles and aisles of toys. “You can have anything you want Crowley!” 

“What kind of toys do you want more than anything?” asked the other twin. “Dolls? Plushies? Oooh, I know! They have a new Lenore book and doll! I saw it when we were getting our dolls!”

Crowley was then taken by each hand by a twin and dragged to the doll aisle. He really did want the new doll and the new book. This doll was a boy doll named Bram, who was the son of a Lord who had died under mysterious circumstances. (There weren't any people in the world of Lenore that didn't die under mysterious circumstances. It was all being lost at sea or catching a mysterious illness. No one ever just fell down the stairs, and if they did, you could safely bet that someone had pushed them.) 

Maybe Aziraphale wouldn't think he was too greedy if he got just one more thing. One more thing turned into two, then three. The twins were very good at picking out things that Crowley really, really liked, and had no shame in crawling up to the top shelves to find the very best things. They had found a toy that projected accurate images of the night sky, and a plush star that softly glowed different colors, and a snake toy that you could chew on, or make rattle, or bend in funny shapes. (Crowley liked it so much that he didn't even bother to object that it was from the baby section.) They also found a pack of accessories for Lenore that included a globe and a tiny telescope, as well as little star maps. 

Sometimes, the twins would pick something out for themselves as well, which made Crowley feel slighly less greedy. The twins mostly picked out dolls for themselves - really, really weird dolls. Crowley had no idea why anyone would make a doll with removable teeth you could play “dentist” with, or one that cries when you gave it a shot; but they did, and Crowley couldn't help but think it had been a mistake. He was also pretty certain that he had seen one of the dolls they picked out in an episode of the “Twilight Zone.” (A show that Crowley hoped the twins never saw; it would probably give them ideas...) 

They were just turing a corner into yet another toy aisle, Crowley trailing a bit behind the others and clutching the package with his new dolly in it, when he caught sight of a familiar long dark coat. The glimpse only lasted a second, as the coat and its occupant turned a corner and disappeared down an isle, but it was enough to freeze Crowley in his tracks. 

He stood there, trying to get his heart to beat normally again, and remember how to make his corporation breathe again. His diaper was significantly wetter and his hands were shaking. Bugger it all, Ligur had followed him here. Hastur was probably lurking somewhere around here as well, like the creep he was. And Crowley could think of no other reason they would be in a Little-centric store other than to follow him, kidnap him, and probably do terrible, terrible things to him. Or worse...to Aziraphale. 

But...it might not have been Ligur, Crowley told himself. He was probably overreacting, just a tad, to a flash of a dark coat. Lots of humans probably had long dark coats. Right? Right? RiGhT? 

A twin poked their head around the aisle, interrupting Crowley's mental meltdown. “Are you coming, Crowley?”

Crowley had a decision to make, and he wasn't very good at making decisions. No matter what, he always seemed to choose the wrong choice. He had lost the Antichrist for Someone's sake! No one should trust him with anything. 

It probably hadn't been Ligur. And if it was, Aziraphale was with Helena, and he was with twins (and Jack, though Crowley wasn't sure how much he counted.) The mirror wraiths would protect them. Crowley thought that if it came down to it, Helena and the twins had a good chance against Hastur and Ligur; they were really scary sometimes. Often without meaning to be, which made them all the more frightening. 

Crowley quickly closed the distance between him and the twins, and took their hand in his and gripped hard. It made him feel better. If he did see Ligur again, and was certain it was him, Crowley would just scream his head off. That way Aziraphale, along with the mirror wraiths and everyone else in the general vicinity, would be alerted to the danger. 

Crowley really didn't want to make a fuss and it turn out to be some poor dumb human. Oh, Crowley was certain everyone would be nice about it, which would make it so much worse, and then he would have to turn into a snake, and then discorporate himself on principal. 

He was terribly distracted for the rest of the toy shopping. The twins couldn't coax him into much interest, which rather worried them; they fancied themselves the protectors of Crowley and they knew he was worried. They asked what was wrong, but Crowley had rather predictably replied, “nothing.” The twins had shared a looked of worry with each other, then one with Jack, who, by this time, was actually paying attention to what was going on. 

The twins tried in vain to bring Crowley's interest back to toys, and had almost given up, when the demon spotted something on the top shelf. Only it's head and a bit of the tail peeked out. “Snek,” he said, without thinking, around his pacifier. 

The twins followed his gaze. “You want the snake?” 

“We'll get you the snake!”

They then proceeded to climb up the shelves untill they reached the snake. (It should be noted that the abnormally tall Jack, a man/creature/whatever who was well over six feet tall, could have probably easily reached the snake, but Jack did so hate to spoil the twins fun.) They dropped it down to Crowley, who found that it was much bigger than it had appeared while it was perched atop the shelf. It was, quite frankly, huge. Red and plush, the snake must have been at least 18 feet in length. Aziraphale probably wouldn't want the giant thing cluttering up the bookshop. And Crowley certainly didn't need it. But by Someone, did he want it. He looked at their overflowing cart, then back at the snake. “It'ssss too much.”

"No, it isn't.” 

“It's a perfectly reasonable price!” The twins, in fact, did not know this; they just wanted their friend to be happy. Money to, them, was something that just appeared, much like the reddish-orange things with too many legs and teeth that sometimes showed up to try and eat the curtains. Up until recently, they had never had much use for the bits of paper that often appeared between the sofa cushions or in the pockets of clothes that had been through the wash. 

“Guuuuh,” Crowley said, and narrowed his eyes at the twins. (It was largely ineffective, as he was waring his dark glasses.) This was the opposite of how things were supposed to go. He was the demon, and therefore should be the one doing any and all temptations. But now he was keeping the stupidly large snake. Maybe Aziraphale wouldn't notice? 

Sensing victory, the twins gave identicaly wicked grins. “We've gone through all the toy aisles.” 

“Let's go find the others, then we can look at clothes!”

Edgar came up on one side of Crowley and Ellen on the other, and they looped their arms through his and headed off to find an Aziraphale who was hopefully unmolested by the demons Hastur and Ligur. Jack followed behind, pushing the cart and whistling a jaunty and very, very off-key tune.


	144. Chapter 144

Aziraphale was apparently perfectly fine. Crowley couldn't quite resist reaching his arms out to his angel in a wordless plea to be picked up and held. He didn't care that it made him look like a stupid, clingy baby. He needed to know that Aziraphale was safe and whole and here. For good measure, Crowley flicked out his forked tounge just to make certain Aziraphale still smelled right. It lightly tickled Aziraphale's cheek and the angel giggled. Bopping Crowley on the snoot and saying, “Oh, dear boy, that tickles,” breathlessly between giggles.

This was, Crowley decided, definitely his angel. 

Aziraphale, for his part, was rather pleased to be greeted with such enthusiasm, and readily took his Little demon into his arms. He patted Crowley's diapered behind once he had cought his breath. Crowley really was unintentionally adorable. “It seems like you could use a change, dear boy.”

Crowley nodded into the joint between Aziraphale's shoulder and neck. Then he lifted his head and looked at Aziraphale very seriously, “Helena comes too.” 

There was safety in numbers. Or at least that was what Crowley was certain he had heard somewhere, and that the source was reliable...probably. 

Even though Aziraphale was perfectly fine, he still couldn't shake the feeling of something being amiss. The worry of Hastur or Ligur suddenly popping up to get him like a bogeyman from under the bed. 

Aziraphale looked to Helena, who shrugged her slim shoulders. “Certainly, the twins probably need a diaper change as well. I'll go round them up, shall I?”

“If you please,” said Aziraphale. 

“I'll stay here with the cart and the stroller, if anyone cares,” Jack sighed, dramatically. 

“We don't,” replied Helena and got a tounge stuck out at her for her troubles. 

Aziraphale looked to the rather packed shopping cart and then to his baby. “Did you pick out some toys for yourself, dear boy?”

“Yes,” Crowley mumbled into the angel's shoulder. “Twins helped.”

Aziraphale stroked red curls. “I'm so very proud of you, darling. I know this has been difficult for you, but you've done so well, and I couldn't be more proud of you.”

It was absolutely ridiculous to be praised for spending Aziraphale’s hard-earned money (which was not, in fact, hard-earned at all, but miracled up) on toys that Crowley may have really wanted, but definitely didn't need. And Crowley was going to tell Aziraphale just that, when he stopped looking at Crowley like that. Really, how was Crowley supposed to say anything when his angel was looking at him with such admiration, like he was good and special and worthwhile and all the other things Crowley knew he wasn't. 

Crowley couldn't find it in his slimy little soul, or what was left of it, to say anything biting. So the demon just snuggled further into his angel and said, “Thank you, Papa.” Then closed his eyes and basked in the warmth, both figurative and literal, of his angel. 

After diapers were changed, they all met in the clothing section. Having the twins and Helena there really did make him feel better. It made him feel like even if Hastur and Ligur showed up and tried to do terrible things, that Crowley wouldn't have to face them alone. (Aziraphale was, of course, there too, but Crowley felt that Aziraphale shouldn’t be involved in anything dangerous ever, especially if it was Crowley's fault. The best place for his angel, in Crowley's opinion, was for him to be curled up with a cozy book in an interesting arm chair, or whatever Aziraphale liked.) 

Their clothes shopping seemed to devolve quite rapidly into a game of “Dress Up Crowley.” Things were picked for and by the twins, sure, but they seemed to be far more interested in treating Crowley like one of their dolls. 

Crowley had been leaning more towards the modern “feminine” lately, and the twins had sensed and taken full advantage of this. Picking out dresses and skirts, lacy socks, and blouses with puffy sleeves. Crowley definitely didn't like it. He definitely didn't like all the attention he was getting, or being told how pretty he was; and if he did, he certainly wouldn't admit it. 

Crowley had never had clothes in the traditional way. He had always just miracled up whatever was in fashion, then worn it for a decade or so until he saw some new style that he thought was cooler, then he miracled up that. He had always made fun of Aziraphale's sensibilities when it came to fashion. His insistence on going to tailor and buying “real clothing,” then keeping the pieces untill they literally fell apart.

Since he had been living with Aziraphale, he had kind of come around to Aziraphale’s way of thinking (not that he would ever tell the angel. If he did Aziraphale would probably get him to like other things that the demon had scorned, like reading, and vegetables, and cOiN tRiCkS) that it was nice to have things that weren't records or plants. It felt comfortable, homey even. And oh, Someone was Crowley ever becoming a sop, but somehow, nestled in his stroller with a twin and his too large plush snake. Hearing the happy chatter of the others as they paid for their numerous purchases, he found he didn't mind terribly.


	145. Chapter 145

The Archangel Michael tapped one well-polished white shoe impatiently as she waited for her knock to be answered. 

The Archangel Gabriel hadn't reported in for duty in almost an entire month now, and it just really wasn't on. While Gabriel was an irritating and un-likable, she believed the human term was douche-bag, he did do a significant amount of work around Heaven. Work that Michael certainly didn't want to do herself. 

The door opened and there stood the Archangel Gabriel, wearing a white shirt and grey boxer shorts, looking more rumpled than an angel had the right to be. Michael crossed her arms, which gave her the impression of being a rather strict headmistress at a very posh school. “Archangel Gabriel, you need to report to work this instant. You've fallen egregiously behind on your paperwork. This ‘time off’ nonsense has gone on quite long enough.”

Gabriel didn't answer, he just turned and walked to the middle of his room, and flopped face first onto a rumpled, king-sized bed. “What's the point?” came the Archangel's muffled voice from where it was being smothered in a light grey down comforter. 

“You are a servant of the Lord,” replied Michael, not realizing that this was not an answer to the question Gabriel had asked at all. 

“Everyone hates me,” Gabriel moaned. 

“Hate is un-angelic,” Michael replied. “They just don't like you.”

A muffled moan came from the bed. “What about you?” 

Michael was more than slightly irritated at this point. “What about me?”

“Do you like me?”

“Certainly not.” Though Michael really didn't see what this had to do with Gabriel not showing up to work. 

He lifted his face to look at her; his eyes were red and oddly shiny. Then she found herself standing outside the door to his quarters once again. 

That, thought Michael, hadn't been productive in the least. Something was obviously very wrong with the Archangel Gabriel, and she thought she had some idea who exactly had caused this rather massive inconvenience. 

She turned around and started down the empty white hallway, her heels clicking loudly; she had someone to pay a call on.


	146. Chapter 146

Beelzebub was very tired of Archangels at this point in her life. (Really there wasn't much Beelzebub wasn't tired of at this point in her long, long, long life.) So of course, another one showed up at her office. 

The Archangel Michael didn't knock, not that Beelzebub had thought she would. ”You have preformed your demonic wiles on the Archangel Gabriel and rendered him completely useless.” (It should be noted that since Beelzebub had regarded Gabriel as completely useless before, she didn't at all understand what she was supposed to have done.) “And I demand that you fix him this instant!”

Bored, Beelzebub rested her cheek on her fist. “Yeah, what ya going to do if I don't?”

“I shall rain down the Holy wrath of Heaven upon you, demon!”

Beelzebub was really tempted to say that she could go right back up to Heaven and stick her holy wrath right up her ass. However, the Prince of Hell realized she was being presented with an opportunity, one that probably wouldn't come again, and one she really didn't want to waste. 

She smiled, not with her actual face mind you, but with her blackened soul. And with all the fear and awe of one inquiring about their dry cleaning she said, “Don't smite me, your majezzzty” (this word dripped enough sarcasm to drown an entire village in) “if you bring the Archangel Gabriel to me I shall restore him to his former” (and here Beelzebub gave a shudder) “glory.”

Michael nodded, but still had enough sense to look suspicious. “This best not be a trick, you disgraceful beast.”

“Oh, don't worry,” said Beelzebub, narrowing her eyes. “No trick.”

Well, Michael figured, the worst that could happen was that Gabriel was broken forever. In which case they would have to replace him, maybe with someone more palatable. Like literally any other angel. Michael nodded. “I shall fetch him.” And in a blaze of light that seared Beelzebub's retinas, she was gone.


	147. Chapter 147

This wasn't as fun as Beelzebub had thought it was going to be. Somehow, Gabriel had managed to become even more pathetic than the last time she had seen him. He was currently listlessly draped over her desk, wearing sweatpants of all things, only producing the occasional groan. 

She blew another spitball into his hair, but it just didn't produce the joy she thought it would. 

While her opinion of Gabriel was that he was a pretentious, self-absorbed, self-righteous, sack of horse crap; she did vastly prefer him to almost all other angels. There were times when he was almost enough of a dick bag to actually like. 

Gabriel flopped from his belly onto his back on the desk and stared at the ceiling. “They really are beautiful, you know.”

Beelzebub raised a dark eyebrow. “What are?”

“Your flies. They shimmer in the light, each one contains a multitude of iridescent rainbows. Beautiful.”

The other eyebrow joined the first. “I think you may be the only sentient, and I use that term in the loosest possible manner, creature to ever refer to fliezzz as beautiful.”

”All of God's creations are beautiful, likable and, wonderful in some unique way...except for me.” The back of Gabriel's head slammed down on the desk with a crack that Beelzebub really hoped was Gabriel's skull and not her desk. 

”Where's your usual disgusting narcissism?” Beelzebub hated to admit it, but she had liked the bastard better when he was a self-righteous, arrogant bag of dicks. This Gabriel was just sad and pathetic, and not fun to fuck with in the least. 

Gabriel turned a violet eye on her. ”Do you know how many friends I've ever had?” 

Beelzebub gave it her best guess. “None?“ 

“Two. I've had two friends in the entirety of my existence. Do you know how many friends I have now?” Gabriel didn't wait for Beelzebub's answer. ”None. They both hate me.” Gabriel threw an arm over his face. ”Is there something wrong with me?”

”Yezzz,” Beelzebub deadpanned. ”Is that what thizzz sickening display is about? A couple of angels ditched you, and now you're feeling sorry for yourself?”

”They aren't angels anymore.”

Beelzebub grabbed fistfuls of Gabriel's tank top and leaned over him so close that their noses almost touched. ”Namezzz. Give me namezzz.”

”Lucifer and Raphael. Well...Raphael isn't Raphael anymore, he's called Crawley...errr...Crowley now.”

”Crowley.” Beelzebub pinched the bridge of her nose. At least Lucifer's weird favoritism for Crowley was now largely explained. But... “How the Hell was Crowley Raphael? Raphael is still in Heaven being an arrogant, angelic dick bag as far as I'm aware of.”

”That's what I thought as well. But it's a different Raphael. After Raphael...I mean Crawley, Crowley, Fell. God replaced him with a new Raphael. Just...replaced him. And I didn't know.” Gabriel let out a strangled moan and looked dangerously close to crying. Which Beelzebub definitely wasn't having. 

”Look, let me get thizzz right,” Beelzebub sighed. “You're having a nervouzzz breakdown because you finally figured out that Crowley is your former friend, the Archangel Raphael, and now he wantzzz nothing to do with you.”

”No...yes.”

”Have you tried apologizzzing?”

”Yes. Aziraphale told me that I wanted Raphael as he was, not as he is now.”

Beelzebub sank down in her uncomfortable office chair that was held together with duct tape and despair. ”Do you? Crowley is a demon now, you know. A Fallen angel. One of the Unforgiven. Turned away from God.”

”I know,” Gabriel bit out. Then he turned to look at the Prince of Hell with searching, violet eyes. ”But he's still Raphael, isn't he?”

Beelzebub sighed. Then she got up, shoved Gabriel off the desk, and grabbed the collar of his shirt. Beelzebub didn't like Gabriel, she would like to make that perfectly clear. However, he was the angel she had the most dealings with over the centuries, and if he was out of commission for the foreseeable future (which seemed likely, as Michael had specifically told her ”not to bring him back untill he was fixed”) she might have to deal with someone like Sandalphon or Satan forbid...Michael herself. She dragged Gabriel out of her office and down the hall. 

”Where are we going?”

”To fix your messzzzz.”


	148. Chapter 148

Crowley was very, very small today. 

He'd been rather big the day before, and had taken the twins and Eddie out for a joyride in the Bentley. Aziraphale had been rather wary of the whole thing. He knew how Crowley drove. Recklessly. And he just miracled the “who’s” and “what’s” that happened to get in his way out of it. Since the entire kidnapping (demon-napping?) debacle, they had both decided that until they were back to sufficient health and power they would restrain from using unnecessary miracles. (Well, Aziraphale had decided. Crowley had just went: “Sure angel, whatever you say.”) 

But Aziraphale wasn't about to hamper Crowley's free will. And he was aware of the (oddly) close relationship that Crowley had with the Bentley, and knew that he missed it while he was small. This, however, would not stop the angel from voicing his concerns. Crowley just gave a cheeky, fanged grin, said, “Stop worrying, angel,” and was out the door. 

When Crowley, the twins, and Eddie had come back the demon did look rather tired. (The twins looked ecstatic and Eddie looked an unsettling shade of green.) Aziraphale had raised an eyebrow and commented, “Tired, my dear?”

Crowley had, to no one's surprise, insisted he was not tired, thank you very much; he was indeed the opposite of tired. Then he proceeded to fall asleep a few minutes into the horror film he was watching with Jack, Eddie, and the twins. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but picked up his wayward demon and changed him; tucking him into bed after moving the creepy porcelain doll off of it. (The twins’ dolls had a peculiar way of showing up in the oddest places. Usually without anyone having put them there. It wasn't uncommon for the twins to be running around, calling out the name of one of their dolls, as if they expected it to voluntarily come out of hiding. This disturbed everyone maybe less than it should have.) 

Crowley slept until morning and when he awoke he was quite Little indeed. Aziraphale had pursed his lips and looked down at the demon on the bed. “I informed you thusly. Didn't I? I knew this would happen if you overexerted yourself. But did you listen to me? No. Why I really ought to....” Aziraphale didn't bother finishing his empty threat. Crowley was looking at him with big, adoring, yellow eyes and holding out his hands for an angelic hug; and Aziraphale just didn't have the heart to continue berating him. Instead, he gathered up his baby demon for a cuddle. 

Aziraphale's demon cuddling was cut short by two sets of knocks on the bedroom door. “Do come in, dears,” Aziraphale called out. 

The twins launched themselves at the bed. “Is Crowley awake?”

“Does he want to finish the film?”

“I don't think that Crowley will be up to much film watching today, dears. He's quite tired and Little today indeed. Completely wore himself out yesterday, naughty thing.”

“That's aright,” one twin informed the angel. “We'll take care of Crowley.”

They looked so adorably serious and Aziraphale found that he really did believe that they would. 

The twins very eagerly helped Aziraphale change Crowley and dress him. They had tried to get him to wear something besides Aziraphale's sweater, but that was a rather firm “no” from the demon. Crowley had crossed his arms so the sweater couldn't be removed. The twins gave up on that loosing battle and insetead pulled up black, frilly bloomers over his diapers and plastic pants, and put lacy black socks on his feet. They also took turns combing out Crowley's hair and carefully clipped a black hair bow in it. A bib with black, lace trim finished the entire thing up nicely; and the twins did look very proud of themselves, and Aziraphale made certain to tell them what a wonderful job they had done. 

Then he asked if they needed changing themselves, which they quite obviously did as their wet night diapers were sagging in their matching ‘Nightmare Before Chrismas’ pajama pants. 

Aziraphale really did love the twins and for some reason that quite surprised him. Angels really weren't supposed to have any sort of meaningful connection to anyone who wasn't an angel. Aziraphale had, of course, rather violated that policy with Crowley; but Crowley was special. Aziraphale supposed he had just thought that only Crowley would ever bother to put up with such an obviously defective angel. He never thought that he was capable of having proper friendships. But he had slid into his relationships with the mirror wraiths so easily and naturally that he had hardly noticed. As he pulled up a pair of pink, plastic pants over the twin's diaper he thought that maybe their newfound friendships weren't just beneficial to Crowley. 

The twins really did take their Crowley-caring duties seriously. They made a little nest for Crowley to sleep in in the play tent out of pillows and plushies and blankets. 

They put together monster dolls while Crowley napped and when he was awake the twins played with him, or read to him, or fed him bottles. (It really was the most adorable thing, and made the angel feel warm and squishy inside.)

The twins loving care of Crowley left Aziraphale and Jack (who was not Aziraphale's first choice, but the only one not currently not back the mirror realm) to put together the crib that Aziraphale had purchased. 

It came in a large number of pieces with instructions for it's assembly. Aziraphale thought it would be good fun. He had never put together anything the human way before. After all, humans did it all the time, how difficult could it be? 


	149. Chapter 149

Apparently, it could be very difficult. Very...difficult...indeed. 

Aziraphale was getting rather frustrated. It had been several hours and what they had to show for their time and labor was...definitely not a crib. There were extra screws - far, far too many extra screws. And the pile of kindling they had created (which was a fairly generous description at this point) was lopsided, and far too short on one side and too long on the other. 

Even worse than the actual failure was Jack's unrelenting cheerfulness about it. He didn't seem to be bothered at all by their complete lack of ability to do what Aziraphale was certain was a simple human task. Jack's permanant smile and utterance of sush asinine things as, “We’ve almost got it,” and, “I'm sure we can make these screws fit somehow,” had grated Aziraphale's last nerve down to oblivion. 

Aziraphale threw down the instructions (if they could be called that), said, “Fuck,” and then he snapped his fingers and a beautiful, dark-stained, wooden crib was sitting by Aziraphale's best reading chair - where their disastrous monstrosity had been sitting just a moment prior. 

Aziraphale regretted the miracle almost immediately. It drained him in a way it never had before, and Aziraphale didn't care for it one bit. He was quite through feeling frail and powerless, thank you very much. In an even worse mood now, Aziraphale got up and stomped over to the chair farthest away from the crib to sit down in a huff. He could feel his sour mood radiating around him. It wasn't very angelic to be irritated, but Aziraphale never could help himself. 

He felt a gentle tap on his knee. There, sitting on the floor, was Crowley, and he was holding out Aziraphale's very well loved copy of ‘The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh.’

Aziraphale felt himself soften a bit, and he bent down to scoop the demon into his arms and settle him comfortably on his lap. Crowley tucked the angel bear he had ben holding into Aziraphale's arms, then the demon wrapped his arms tightly around Aziraphale's neck. His hand snaked up to pet the angel's fluffy hair. 

Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut against their sudden sting. Crowley was so small at the moment, far too small to take care of himself. Yet here the dear boy was, still talking care of Aziraphale to the best of his abilities. 

Aziraphale kissed the demon's hair, then he situated the demon against him and held him close as he opened ‘The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh.’ Two stories in and Aziraphale was devoid of any lingering irritation. Yes, he had failed

rather spectacularly, but he had a warm demon who loved him curled in his lap, and the adventures of a stout and somewhat confused bear to become absorbed in. He sipped on the perfectly made tea that had appeared on his side table sometime when he wasn't looking. No doubt placed there by one of the mirror wraiths. 

A dark, slender hand was placed gently on one of Aziraphale's shoulders. The owner of said hand, who Aziraphale hadn't realized had returned, suggested a nap for the angel and demon. Since Crowley was half asleep anyway, Aziraphale thought it might be a good idea. 

Curled up in bed with his darling, baby demon, Aziraphale pondered on how much his existence had changed recently as he drifted off to sleep. Aziraphale was not an angel who particularly liked change. He tended to find what he liked and keep it for as long as possible. Crowley was definitely the best thing he had found and he had every intention to keep him forever. 

Usually, they would be left alone to nap for however long they pleased, but on this particular occasion their snooze was interrupted by several sharp knocks on the bedroom door. “Do come in, dear,” Aziraphale said, not bothering to sit up or indeed, even to open his eyes. 

“Aziraphale,” it carried a note of seriousness that wasn't usually found in Helena's voice. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes. Helena was standing over his bed looking slightly grave, flanked by the twins who looked some odd mix of curious and excited. “I'm sorry to wake you, angel Aziraphale, but the Archangel Gabriel is outside and he appears to be accompanied by a demon.”


	150. Chapter 150

Aziraphale really wasn't having this. He had had quite enough of his old boss and his...his...buffoonery. 

He'd hurt Crowley; the cardinal sin, in Aziraphale's opinion. One that couldn't be forgiven. And Aziraphale had absolutely no intention to let Gabriel continue to hurt Crowley. 

Aziraphale carried the still sleeping Crowley out to the sitting room and deposited him into Eddie's arms. 

The angel then stormed downstairs with every intention of giving Gabriel a piece of his mind. 

Helena, sensing trouble, followed. The twins, sensing entertainment, followed as well. 

Aziraphale flung open the shop door. “How DaRe you, Gabriel! How dare you show your face here again. You absolute bAsTaRd! Haven't you hurt him enough? Why can't you just leave us alone?”

The diminutive, yet frightening, demon Azriaphale hadn't noticed in his righteous rage had stepped in front of Gabriel and, in a tone that made both angels shiver, said, “Look. I know Gabriel is a pompous, annoying prick, but you can shut the fuck up and hear him out before you tell him to go to Hell. Got it?”

Aziraphale did his best impression of a very surprised fish. Opening and closing his mouth with increasing frequency, but not quite managing to get any words out. He supposed he could hear what Gabriel had to say; it would be the angelic and probably safer thing to do. 

The angel expected Gabriel to be the one to state his case, but instead Beelzebub just continued on. “Look. I know the idiot fucked up. Very, very badly,” added the Prince of Hell, side-eyeing Gabriel all the while. “And one, probably very pathetic, apology won't make up for that. But I want the bastard to stop moping around my office. He obviously misses Crowley, who was the closest thing he's ever had to anyone who actually likes him. Which is pathetic. So, why don't you make a deal?” 

“A deal?” Aziraphale asked, not liking where this was going in the least. And why the figurative Hell was Beelzebub here negotiating on Gabriel's behalf anyway? Aziraphale couldn't begin to wonder. 

“Yes. A deal. Gabriel sees Crowley, spends a bit of time with him - you watch. If he fucks up, you kick him out and he never bothers you again.”

“Errr...Bee?” Gabriel tapped on Beelzebub's shoulder, looking more uncertain than Aziraphale had ever seen him before. 

Beelzebub swatted him away like a particularly annoying fly. (Which was slightly ironic when one thought about it.) “Shut up and don't call me that.”

“If it goes well, Gabriel gets occasional visitation.” Beelzebub crossed her arms, and though she was shorter than Aziraphale, somehow still managed to look down her nose at him. 

Aziraphale steeled himself. “Absolutely not.” But before he could state all one hundred and thirty-three reasons (sixty of these reasons were simply that 'Gabriel is a bastard') why the Archangel Gabriel should never be near his darling, baby Crowley ever, he felt a hand firmly grasp his arm. 

He turned to face Helena. “Don't you think that the demon Crowley should have some say in the matter? It does rather concern him, after all.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to list all the reasons why Crowley couldn't decide this. He was too little. He was too fragile. Gabriel would manipulate him. He would get hurt. But they sounded like tissue paper thin excuses, even in his own mind. Helena was right. Helena was right, and Aziraphale hated it.

The angel turned back to his former boss and the Prince of Hell. “You will wait here while I go and get Crowley's answer, and whatever that answer is you shall respect it. Do you understand?” (Later, it would occur to Aziraphale just what he had said, and who he had said it to. And his knees would go all wobbly, and he would need a good, long sit down and a strong cup of tea.) 

Beelzebub just shrugged, unconcerned. “Sure.”

Aziraphale turned and stomped back to the bookshop with a very put upon air. He knew what he hoped Crowley would say, but he tried to prepare himself to accept whatever answer the demon might give. After all, Crowley was the most important thing here, and he would just have to shove aside whatever prejudices he had and remember that. 

However, that very sensible decision still didn't stop him from really, really hoping Crowley would tell Gabriel to go someplace very unpleasant indeed.


	151. Chapter 151

Crowley looked worried as Aziraphale picked him up and took him to the bedroom. He sat the Little demon on the bed and kneeled down in from of him.

“Darling, I know it's rather hard for you, but could you be just a bit Big right now? Just to answer one question?”

Crowley hesitantly nodded.

“Gabriel is outside with Beelzebub, and wishes to see you. It can only be once, unless you decide otherwise, but I don't want you to feel pressured either way, my dear boy. You could just tell him to go away right now, if you please.”

Aziraphale could see the struggle in Crowley's eyes, and he didn't like it one bit. Eventually, Crowley let his pacifier drop from his mouth, still attached securely to it's clip, and opened his mouth to speak. It was obviously difficult for the demon, he tended to be quite nonverbal when he was very small, but he got out a few halting words. “If...if...I wanted...to see...Gabriel. Would...would you be...mad at me?”

Aziraphale cradled his baby's face. “Of course not, darling. Of course not.” And he found that he really did mean it.

“Then...can I see him? Just once...if he's not mean.”

Gabriel wouldn't be mean to Crowley if he knew what was good for him. Aziraphale gathered up his Little demon and carried him back out to the sitting room. Helena followed him back down to the bookshop. He turned to her with his hand poised to open the front door. “If things go badly, can you make them leave? Gabriel and Beelzebub, I mean?”

Helena gave a small and slightly wicked smile, “I can make them leave very, very unpleasantly, if you wish it.”

Aziraphale took her thin, dark hand in his chubby, pale one (the hand that was not securely clutching Crowley to him) and squeezed, “Thank you very, very much, my dear.”

Aziraphale didn't think he could face Gabriel without Helena's calming presence at his side.

As it turned out, he wasn't doing so well with it either. They were all sitting in the bookshop, as Aziraphale absolutely refused to let Beelzebub or Gabriel into his flat. They were all silently and awkwardly staring at each other.

Gabriel leaned forwards towards Aziraphale, not taking his intense violet gaze off of the demon in Aziraphale’s lap. “I want to hold him.”

Aziraphale really, really didn't want to give Crowley to Gabriel, but he looked down at his baby, who gave a hesitant nod.

Aziraphale pursed his lips in a moue of distaste, but got up, and very carefully deposited Crowley in Gabriel's waiting arms.

“Be very careful with him,” Aziraphale said, in the same tone he used to reprimand customers that were so entitled as to think of buying one of his books. “He's very Little. Support his head and...don't hold him there, he doesn't like it! Yes, make certain he has his blankie.”

Gabriel gave a halfhearted glare at the Principality Aziraphale. He knew how to hold Raphael. He had done it countless times when they had been in Heaven together. It had been one of Gabriel's favorite things to do. To hold Raphael. To have him a warm, pliant weight on him. Only now it felt different. Raphael wasn't pliant (he wasn't warm either, but that concerned Gabriel far less) in fact, he was tense and looking at Gabriel with an unhappy mix of curiosity and suspicion. It was as if he was waiting for Gabriel to do something unpleasant to him, and that made some fragile thing deep, deep inside Gabriel break.


	152. Chapter 152

The twins plopped down on either side of Gabriel, and one of them produced a warm bottle of milk. They were attempting to explain how to feed it to Crowley, but Gabriel was just staring at it disdainfully. “You shouldn't feed this gross, physical matter to Raphael.”

Aziraphale bristled. “He needs to eat, Gabriel. When he's Little he isn't in a place to miracle himself sustenance. He can barley remember to do it when he's Big. And personally,” Aziraphale said, with a haughty sniff, “I think that it's better to take your sustenance the way God intended, thank you very much.”

Gabriel opened his mouth, presumably to argue with Aziraphale, but was interrupted by the demon prince, who was sprawled over a chair looking bored. “For fuck'zzz sake just give him the bottle, you great lump. Babiezzz need bottlezzz, even I know that.”

While all the arguing had been taking place, Crowley had been very focused on the bottle of milk being held cruelly away from him. He had tried to stick out his forked tounge as far as it would go to reach the reach the yummy, little drop of milk hanging off the end of the nipple; however, despite having a very, very long tongue, it just wouldn't reach. 

So, with a grumble and a wiggle, Crowley extracted his arms and reached up to grasp the bottle around the large hands that already held it and tug it down into his mouth where it belonged. 

Beelzebub let out a snort. “Seemzzz the baby knowzz what he wantzzz.”

Gabriel ignored Beelzebub and looked down to the Little on his lap. Gabriel hated to admit when he was wrong, because he wasn't wrong ever, he was pretty sure. But it was very, very nice to have Raphael semi-relaxed in his arms, making adorable little snuffling and suckling noises as he consumed his revolting, liquid matter. Unfortunately for Gabriel, there were exactly two things that the Archangel did not know about Crowley. 

The first thing was that, without fail, Crowley always, always wet his diaper when he had a bottle.

Secondly, that in all of the fuss and worry that came with the Archangel and the demon's arrival, Crowley's current diaper hadn't actually been changed since his nap earlier today. Crowley had, of course, wet in his sleep, and then wet again after he had awoken. This put his diaper at it's absorbent limits. So when Crowley began to wet it as he nursed his (rather delicious) vanilla flavored formula, the liquid was not absorbed, and instead traveled out of the leg gathers of the diaper and leaked out of the plastic pants and from there wetted both Crowley's nice, frilly bloomers and Gabriel's trousers. 

The Archangel Gabriel froze at the unfamiliar sensation. He had absolutely no idea what was happening. Was this supposed to happen when you fed a Little a bottle? He didn't know. He also didn't want to admit that he didn't know. So he just sat, unmoving, as a wet patch continued to grow on his trousers, the liquid eventually creeping it's way down his legs and pitter-pattering on the floor. 

This soft sound, of course, brought the attention of all the other various beings in the room. Beelzebub reacted first, letting out an absolute howl of laughter. Then practically falling out of the chair she had been perched on, snorting and wheezing and buzzing with amusement. 

The twins giggled from either side of him, and Aziraphale began to let out little chuckles. Helena's laugh rang out like bells on a still winter night (which was a very specific, but somehow also very apt description.) Gregor's deep guffaw and Jack's odd scratchy laugh. Eddie didn't laugh out loud, but gave a small laugh behind his hand. 

Gabriel did not understand in the least why everyone was laughing. Determined not to do anything wrong, and as a consequence never see Raphael again for the entirety of existence, Gabriel just straighted to his full height and continued to feed Raphael his bottle. He steadfastly ignored the rapidly cooling, odd smelling liquid he was covered in. 

For his part, Crowley was simply too Little and too distracted to realize what was happening, and why everyone was laughing, until after he had finished his bottle and wiggled into a sitting position. He looked down at the puddle of pee that he had made in Gabriel's lap and turned a lovely shade of scarlet. 

Aziraphale promptly collected him for a diaper change as Gabriel miracled his trousers clean, hinting (not subtly at all) that Gabriel and Beelzebub should be taking their leave now, please and thank you. 

Gabriel didn't get the hint, not that anyone had expected him to. Beelzebub, however, being significantly smarter, did, and told Gabriel, “He wantzzz us to go, dumb asszzz, " then promptly dragged him out the door. 

And thus ended the first visit of the Archangel Gabriel and the Little Demon Crowley (formerly the Little Archangel Raphael.) Grudgingly, very, very grudgingly, Aziraphale had to admit that he was rather impressed that Gabriel hadn't dumped Crowley off him the second he had realized he was peeing on him. Gabriel didn't have a very high tolerance for anything he deemed “gross,” and certainly demon wee qualified. It was almost as if Gabriel was making an attempt not to be such an...an...utterly contemptible person. 

Well...thought Aziraphale, carrying his darling demon upstairs, they would just see how long this would last, wouldn't they?


	153. Chapter 153

Crowley curled up in a tiny ball (or as tiny of a ball as a long limbed demon could manage) in his crib. There weren't any sheets on it yet, save the waterproof one decorated with happy little ducks covering the mattress. 

He wasn't quite as small as he had been, but he certainly wasn't Big either. He was in that uncomfortable, hazy space between and he didn't know what to do with himself; so he curled up in a ball and thought, and as usual, the demon's thoughts were less than pleasant. 

They had laughed at him. He had wet himself, and Aziraphale and all his friends had laughed at him. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd been laughed at for weeing himself over the centuries. Crowley had often wet himself and been caught by some observant human before he had the chance to miracle it away. This though...this was much worse than any public humiliation by random humans. These were his angel and his friends, and they had all laughed at him. 

Maybe that was supposed to make it better, that they were his friends, but it didn't. Friends were supposed to laugh at each other, weren't they? (Crowley didn't actually know, he was rather inexperienced in the art of friendship.) And it wasn't supposed to hurt, it was supposed to be fun because you knew that it wasn't cruel. He was probably just being a baby about the whole thing.

Being a baby was why they had laughed at him in the first place. He had not just wet himself like a baby, but wet himself so much that it had leaked, not only through his thick diaper, but his plastic pants as well. And leaked all over Gabriel's lap, which wasn't, now that Crowley thought of it, the worst part of the day. At least Gabriel hadn't laughed. Though his feelings about the Archangel were more than a little conflicted, Crowley could at least give him that. Though, now that he thought of it, Gabriel probably just didn't understand why it was funny because the bastard had no sense of humor. He never had, even in Heaven, from what Crowley could remember. 

Gabriel had been nice to him, though; it had almost been like the old days, in Heaven. The days that were bathed in a golden glow, the only happy memories of Heaven he had. Gabriel had almost been the Gabriel of memory instead of the absolute bag of self-righteous rat shit that had told Aziraphale (well him as Aziraphale) to “shut up and die already.” 

Crowley didn't know what to think or do about Gabriel. He just couldn't reconcile the two Gabriels. He really wanted Gabriel to come around again, and he also really didn't. 

His conflicting confliction over the Archangel Gabriel as well as the specter of humiliation that had taken up residence in his chest were making him feel sick. He was too Little to actually sort out his distressing thoughts and take appropriate and sensible actions. (Not that he was good at doing that when he was Big, either.) So he was just going to curl up in his rather cold crib and try very, very hard not to cry. 

The crib, that was a horror unto itself. He didn't want to sleep here, surrounded by rails, in baby prison! Not when he had a nice, soft bed and an even softer angel to sleep on. Crowley could only conclude (mostly because he simply hadn't considered any other option) that Aziraphale had changed his mind and didn't want Crowley to sleep in the big bed with him anymore. Maybe he didn't want a dumb, little baby who peed through the thickest diapers miracled money could buy, in his bed, wetting it. 

Crowley took a deep and slightly shaky breath. Maybe he was just being dramatic; he heard his angel's footsteps approaching the crib. Aziraphale would come and scoop him up and take him to bed and they would have a nice cuddle, and sleep, and everything would be alright in the end. 

He felt a blanket being drapped over him and chubby fingers card gently through his hair. Any minute now he would be in Aziraphale's arms and on the way to his soft bed and cuddles with his angel. 

Crowley felt several plush animals being tucked in beside him, and a finger slip under the leg hole of his diaper. Crowley stiffened and sucked aggressively on his pacifier; this wasn't right. 

“All dry, dear.” The angel leaned forward to kiss Crowley's cheek. “Goodnight, darling.” And with that, Crowley heard the clicking of a latch as the side of the crib was snapped in place. Then everything went dark.

The demon scrambled upwards and grabbed the rails, looking out between them. The room was empty and dark. Azirphale had left him. Crowley glared at the darkness. 

Azirphale had left him...Crowley curled back into a ball and let his thin frame be racked with sobs.


	154. Chapter 154

Beelzebub and Gabriel walked down the London streets. In order to ooze their way back to Hell, Beelzebub needed dirt. And that was a relatively scarce commodity in a bustling metropolis like London, so they were heading to the park. 

Mid-stride, the Prince of Hell found herself scooped up in the Archangel's arms and squeezed. The fly on her head (named Bathsheba) gave an unhappy buzz and fluttered her wings in irritation as the Archangel swung the smaller demon around, knocking her slightly askew from her comfy perch. 

“Thank you! Bee, thank you so much!”

Beelzebub gave the Archangel a good, firm kick to the crotch. Gabriel dropped her to grasp his corporation's smarting genitals. 

“Don't call me Bee. And thank you for what, you malignant dolt?”

Gabriel gave a pained groan. “Oooohhhh...for...ah, that does smart...for the small part you played in helping me to reconcile with baby Raphie.”

“You haven't reconciled with him yet. Didn't you listen, moron? He can tell you to get lozzzt at any time.”

Gabriel straighted, seemingly recovered from the demon-inflicted damage to his most private of parts. “Yes, but he hasn't yet, has he? So there is still hope. And nothing is more pure and Godly than hope. Besides...I'm certain I can win him over.”

Beelzebub snorted. “And make him forget about how you abandoned him to Hell and tried to kill his stupid, pet angel?”

Gabriel frowned. “I didn't mean that. I wouldn't have done that if I'd have known it was Raphie. Surely Raphael knows that....” For a brief second, the dopey grim had fallen from the angel's face, then just as soon as it had vanished, it returned “Ahhhh well, it's of no consequence. I'll make things right. I am, after all, the Archangel Gabriel.” And the aforementioned Archangel beamed down at the Prince of Hell. 

Beelzebub resisted the overwhelming urge to slam her head repeatedly into the nearest concete surface. Gabriel really was creation's biggest moron. Though as of this evening, he was back to being a significantly more entertaining moron. Which, Beelzebub supposed, was reason enough to see this whole clusterfuck through.


	155. Chapter 155

If Eddie was an expert on anything, it would be self-flagellation. He couldn't remember a time, even as a very small child, that he didn't feel like he was the worst piece of shit, and that everything that had ever gone wrong in the immediate vicinity was his fault. 

Aziraphale had told them all that Crowley needed time and space to himself. He had said that Crowley had done this before through their long friendship. (Thinking of exactly how long that was made Eddie's head hurt.) Had a fight or a difficult time of it, then left to be by himself for a while, then come back the same as ever. So, Aziraphale figured that they should just leave Crowley alone after the rather overwhelming day he had just had. 

(Aziraphale was also pleased to note, however, that Crowley seemed to be taking nicely to his new crib, as the Little dear had crawled right in it.) 

Eddie thought that Aziraphale was a nice guy, the nicest (unless you touched his books without permission, or ate something of his that was in the fridge), a literal angel. He was very intelligent, too; he could grasp concepts that had Eddie's brain melting and running out his nose. But sometimes...he was also...how should Eddie put this...an idiot. 

Eddie didn't think that Crowley needed space. He thought that Crowley needed the exact opposite of space. Though he didn't dare tell the angel that. Aziraphale, quite frankly, scared the shit out of Eddie. 

Unfortunately, it seemed that no one else was going to be saying anything, either. As soon as Gabriel had left, Helena, Jack, and the twins had gone into the mirror dimension to gather “precautionary measures for Gabriel's next visit.” Eddie, eager to prove himself a worthwhile student, had wanted to come with, but Helena had told him that, “it might be a bit much for him at the moment.” (Eddie didn't want to know what that meant. So he stayed here with Azirphale, Crowley, and Gregor.)

Eddie had tried bringing up his thoughts with Gregor as they had both been settling down for the night, but Gregor had just looked contemplative and said, “The angel Aziraphale has been with the demon Crowley for much time. I should think he is privy to his moods by now, and knows how best to handle the situation, and we should respect what he has asked of us, and leave Crowley to his thoughts.”

Then Gregor had gone to sleep. Eddie lay awake for a very long time, staring at the ceiling and listening to Gregor's soft snores. He just had a feeling that Crowley was a lot like him in certain ways, and that the demon was currently hurting. When Eddie was hurting he would go off and curl up by himself too, but the last thing he actually wanted was to be alone. When you were alone there was nothing and no one to distract you from the terrible thoughts that ate you alive, slowly convincing you that everyone hated you, and that you were shit, and that everything was terrible. 

Eddie brought one of the twins’ weird dolls close to his chest and hugged it, taking in the odd and babyish scent of the twins. 

He really didn't want to overstep his place and find himself, once more, kicked out. This was the fist time in his life that he had just begun to feel like he had a home and a family. He really, really didn't want to fuck that up for himself. 

But, he really liked Crowley as well. The demon was really cool when he was Big and absolutely adorable when he was Little. (It should be noted that Eddie was maybe the only person who had ever thought of Crowley as “cool” without the slightest hint of irony.) 

Maybe he would just check on Crowley. Just stand in the doorway and look. That wouldn't hurt, would it? 

Eddie carefully set the doll aside. (You had to be careful with the twins’ dolls, as upsetting them could result in some rather nasty dreams, as he had found out when he had accidentally sat on one.) He slid quietly put of bed and padded down the hall. 

Standing in the doorway, he could just make out a lump of blankets in the crib. 

He crept forward. And as he did he noticed a sligt trembling of that blanketed lump and small pitiful whimpers emanating from it as well. 

Crowley was crying.


	156. Chapter 156

Eddie hurried over to the crib and wasted no time in puting down the side and scooping up the sobbing demon. Crowley didn't weigh all that much, but he was quite a bit taller than Eddie's perfectly respectable five foot eight. This made it a bit awkward to try and arrange all of Crowley's gangly limbs. But Eddie was undeterred. He even rembered to grab the plushies that had been in Crowley's crib with him, hoping that they might bring at least a small comfort to the distressed demon. 

Eddie arranged them both on the sofa, Crowley in his lap. He didn't ask Crowley if anything was wrong, because it obviously was. He just held the Little and let him silently sob into his My Chemical Romance shirt for a while. 

When the demon's sobs died down, Eddie gently took Crowley by the shoulders and tipped him back a little so that he could look at the Little's face. “So, I...uh...know there's something wrong. Do you want to tell me what it is?”

Crowley just narrowed his yellow eyes and shook his head ‘no.’ 

Eddie sighed, but it was a fond sort of sigh. He pushed a stray red curl out of the baby demon's face. “How about I guess, and you tell me ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

Crowley shrugged and buried his face back into Eddie's shirt. 

“Are you upset about Aziraphale leaving you in the crib?”

A nod ‘yes.’ 

“Are you upset about Gabriel coming today?”

A nod ‘no,’ and then a nod ‘yes,’ followed by Crowley going boneless, and hitting his well-diapered bottom on the floor with a soft thud. The demon then flopped on his back and whined, “I don't knowwww.”

He squeezed his snakey eyes shut and then began to talk. Out came everything that had been churning around in Crowley’s troubled little mind. His conflicting feelings about Gabriel; how he was frightened that Aziraphale didn't want him in the big bed anymore. Was it Crowley's fault? Was his Papa upset with him because he had wanted to see Gabriel? He didn't want to sleep in baby jail all alone. By the time he got around to the laughing, Crowley was practically having a full blown meltdown. Sobbing and pounding his fists and feet onto the floor. 

Eddie knew that sometimes, when you were upset, you just needed to be upset for awhile. So Eddie let Crowley be upset. He just sat and listened. (He also tried to tap into that small spark of ability to change the world around you that Helena had told him that all living creatures had, and will it so that no one heard them. Eddie didn't want Aziraphale or Gregor to come out, and see Crowley crying, and Eddie just sitting there.) 

When Crowley had finished and the sobbing had died down, Eddie once again picked him up and held him close. 

“No one was laughing because your diaper leaked, baby. We were laughing because it was funny that you peed on Gabriel, ‘cause he's like...kind of a dick.”

Here Crowley gave a little snort that Eddie figured was in agreement. 

“It's perfectly understandable to be, you know, confused about what's happened. I know I am. I don't know what I'd do if my Dad just showed up and started being really nice to me. Probably think he was possessed. Is that, like, offensive? Do you actually possess people? Uh...anyway...you know, you...you don't have to decide what you want to do about Gabriel right now. From what Jack told me that Helena told him, Aziraphale made it really clear to Gabriel that what happened was your decision, and you could tell him to go away at any time. It takes time to see if someone has changed. Like, really, really changed. Not just said that they did. 

“For right now, I think we should change your diaper, then you should just go to sleep. And in the morning you can talk to Aziraphale and tell him that you don't like sleeping alone in the crib.”

“No,” Crowley said around the thumb that had become firmly lodged in his mouth. 

“Uh, no, you don't want to go to sleep?”

“No tell angel.”

“You don't want to tell Aziraphale that you don't want to sleep in the crib? Um...would you...uh...like me to tell him?”

Crowley looked contemplative for a moment, then nodded and buried his face back in Eddie’s neck. 

Dear God that Eddie had only recently started to believe in, what had he gotten himself into? He was going to have to critique the Angel Aziraphale's caretaking skills. To his face. Eddie recalled angels in the Bible doing a lot of smiting. (Or at least that's what he'd gathered from watching ‘Ancient Aliens.’) He hoped that wasn't still a thing. 

He looked down at Crowley, who had obviously slipped back down to being very, very Little again. (Eddie really wasn't surprised after such a tiring upset as the demon just had.) Crowley was a darling and Eddie really liked the guy...demon...whatever. And he was obviously hurting, and Aziraphale just didn't understand, because Aziraphale didn't think the way that they did, he and Crowley. Eddie could explain, hopefully, where Crowley couldn't or wouldn't, and maybe make Aziraphale understand how to take care of Crowley just a little bit better. 

Eddie was definitely going to get smited...smitten? Eddie didn't know; reduced to a small pile of ash, anyway. He replaced the thumb in Crowley's mouth with his pacifier and clutched the Little demon close to him. “It'll be alright,” he whispered, but it was more to himself than Crowley. 

Eddie had completely disregarded what both Aziraphale and Gregor had told him, and now he was going to tell an actual angel how to take care of his Little. All joking (and Eddie really hoped it was joking) about smiting aside, Eddie was absolutely petrified that by this time tomorrow he was going to be out on the streets once again. Only this time he was pretty certain that there would be no more weirdos (kindly or otherwise) to take him in.


	157. Chapter 157

Eddie took his time changing Crowley's diaper. Rubbing in all the baby lotions and creams and powders he could find. He wanted to make certain with actions, and not just words, that Crowley knew everyone was more than fine with him wearing diapers. 

“The twins used to leak all the time before they switched over to disposable and Velcro cloth diapers. I'm kind of glad, because I was always worried I was going to poke them with a pin when I changed them.”

Crowley didn't say anything, he just sucked on his paci and looked at Eddie with sleepy, yellow eyes. 

Eddie diapered Crowley in one of his thick disposables, then placed a Velcro cloth diaper over that, and plastic pants on top. It may have been a bit much, but Eddie felt that Crowley needed a little extra comfort and security tonight. And the demon also looked absolutely adorable so thickly diapered. 

Eddie sat the Little in his lap. “So...where do you want to sleep? With me and Gregor? Or with me on the sofa? Or with Aziraphale?”

Crowley scrunched up his face in thought and it was absolutely precious. If Eddie had more than five pounds to his name he would have invested in a camera to capture moments like this. (He wondered if mirror wraiths showed up on film?) 

“‘Zira-pale,” Crowley finally said behind his pacifier. 

That was what Eddie was hoping he wouldn't say. But he wasn't about to deny the baby, he'd had a bad enough night already. So Eddie gathered up baby, blankets, and stuffies, and tiptoed as quietly as possible into the sleeping angel's bedroom. 

Biting his lip, his teeth catching on his snake bites, Eddie made his way over to the bed. He very, very gently laid Crowley down on the bed and tried to maneuver his long legs under the blankets without tugging said blankets off the sleeping angel. Crowley, who was both very small and very tired, was of little help. 

Eddie made certain that Crowley was tucked in, had his blanket, and at least one plushie tightly held in his grasp. By some stroke of good fortune, Eddie had managed not to wake up Aziraphale. So Eddie gave Crowley's curls a last pet, whispered a “goodnight,” and turned to leave. 

His escape was hindered by thin fingers grasping the back hem of his shirt. He turned around to look at the demon. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark at him. (They would be unsettling if Eddie hadn't known the rather nice demon that they belonged to.) “Stay,” Crowley said. 

“I shouldn't...Azirphale...won't...I mean...,” but Crowley's eyes were big and sad and his bottom lip had jutted out in a pout. Eddie sighed and motioned for the demon to scoot over. 

Crowley looked very happy with himself as he snuggled between Aziraphale and Eddie. 

Eddie lay in the dark for a while, staring at the ceiling again. Every muscle was tense, as he was very, very aware of the actual angel sleeping just a scant couple feet away. Crowley had fallen asleep a while ago, so Eddie listened to the little hisses and snuffles the demon made in his sleep. 

His back was starting to ache, so he took a risk and tried to carefully roll over onto his side. The rustling of the blankets sounded deafening to him, and he could only hope that the noise and the movement didn’t wake the other two occupants of the bed. 

Now on his side, Eddie stared at Crowley, which was a bit more entertaining than the ceiling. Crowley really was cute, his pacifier bobbing softly in his mouth, his devil bear held half over his face. Eddie's face relaxed into a faint smile. But that smile soon fell when he felt a shiver go up his spine. 

His father had has always said that when you got a chill for no reason it was someone walking on your grave. Eddie had told his father that he didn't have a grave because he wasn't dead, and his father had asked if he knew that for sure. Eddie hadn't, maybe he really was dead, and life was all just some sort of ghostly dream or illusion. 

At least Eddie really hoped that was the case, because across the bed from him a pair of blue eyes were doing their best to steal their way into his soul.


	158. Chapter 158

Aziraphale was rather...out of sorts. In fact, he had not been this out of sorts since the actual Apocalypse. 

First, it had been the entire debacle with the crib. Furniture you had to put together yourself, with dreadfully confusing instructions that made no sense, surely was a machination of Hell meant to drive humans to insanity. 

Then, Aziraphale had lost his temper at the blasted thing. Though, it wasn't just his inability to put together furniture that was bothering him. Aziraphale had maybe overused miracles in the past; it was just more convenient to miracle that bit of dirt off his pants or an extra marshmallow into his cocoa. Now that his powers were, temporarily, out of commission, Aziraphale felt rather lost. And he didn't like it one bit. He felt powerless and he worried that he was currently inadequate to take sufficient care of Crowley. He could no longer just miracle up whatever Crowley needed, whenever he needed it. Crowley needed so much care and love, he was so hurt in so many ways, and often Aziraphale worried he simply wasn't providing enough of the right things for the Little demon. 

And Gabriel coming back certainly didn't help matters. That, that...unpleasant angel had just showed up and demanded to hold his baby. His baby! It was a scant few months ago when Gabriel had been condemning Crowley for simply existing, and now the cad wanted to barge into their lives and smooth everything over. 

Well, Aziraphale was rather tired of the Archangel Gabriel telling him what to do. Aziraphale had always forgiven some of Gabriel's less than kind orders and mannerisms on account of his being simply an instrument of God's will making certain everyone was doing their jobs, as well as the angel himself simply being rather impersonable. But Aziraphale could not forgive what had been done to Crowley. 

The angel had once hoped to be friends with Gabriel, but the Archangel had seemed quite uninterested. Now, after having made friends, proper friends, who valued and listened to him, Aziraphale was the one disinterested in Gabriel. And Aziraphale had come to the realization that he, more than a little, resented the way that Gabriel had treated him. 

Aziraphale could tell Crowley that he was alright with him wanting to see Gabriel until he was blue in the face, but it didn't make it true. Aziraphale would persevere, though, and never let on to Crowley how much he hated it. 

Aziraphale was almost glad to flop into bed at the end of the day, though he certainly missed his Little demon by his side. He supposed that sleep had become a rather bad habit for him now, as it had been for Crowley for a long time. Nevertheless, there was certainly something to this sleeping business. It could be awfully restorative, and sometimes, just sometimes, things didn't look quite so dire after a good sleep. 

The day had been hard on his poor, Little Crowley as well. Aziraphale could see how conflicted this entire Gabriel situation made him. And, as he often had before, Crowley seemed to need a bit of time to himself tonight. 

Often, when they had argued or Crowley had been in someway overwhelmed or upset, he would disappear for awhile into his current residence and curl up on whatever served as his bed. If Aziraphale went to check on his demonic friend he would receive a muffled “go away” or sometimes a “leave me alone” and Aziraphale would, only to see Crowley sometime later looking much better and acting as if the incident never happened. Aziraphale supposed this alone time was just something his demon needed, and while Aziraphale would much rather have him here in bed with him, the angel was happy to give his Little whatever it was that he desired. After all, Crowley had always taken such good care of him, always coming or leaving whenever the angel asked. The least Aziraphale could do was to return the favor. 

Though, admittedly, Aziraphale was rather happy to feel the bed indent and smell the familiar, babyish scent of his demon, as Crowley apparently decided he had had quite enough alone time and crawled into bed with his angel. 

Aziraphale, still half asleep, rolled over, looping an arm around his baby's waist. He felt something off, a familiar presence, yet one that was entirely out of place in his bedroom. Aziraphale opened his eyes


	159. Chapter 159

Aziraphale had barely paid attention to the human the mirror wraiths had adopted. He was quiet. He didn't touch Aziraphale’s books. He was good with the twins and Crowley, perfectly willing to play with or care for them as it was needed. He certainly had never made a nuisance of himself. So Aziraphale was rather puzzled as to why he was here now. 

Aziraphale was also a little annoyed. He had had quite enough of others horning in on his time with his baby. As far as the angel was concerned, Eddie was an unwelcome intruder and better have an extremely good explanation. 

Aziraphale waited as the rather terrified looking human gathered his thoughts. 

“Crowley...uh...Crowley...Crowley was crying....”

That certainly got Aziraphale’s attention. He fixed the human with a glare and gathered the sleeping Little closer to his chest. “What did you do?”

Eddie audibly gulped. “I didn't....I mean....I wasn't the reason he was crying. He didn't like being left alone! In the crib. And he didn't like being laughed at. I mean....I know we weren't laughing at him....We were laughing at that angel dude who was kind of an asshole....And I explained that to him! I did! But he just automatically thought that when we were laughing, we were laughing at him. And he's really confused about that dude...the asshole...Gabriel.”

Eddie looked contemplative for a moment. “I know you must be, too. I know he was your boss...and from what I've heard a really shitty one. I...I know what that’s like. Having a boss that makes you do crappy things. Or sets you up for failure and then punishes you for that failure. And you can't leave because you need him to live, or you think things will be worse if you leave, or...you think he's...right...about you....”

Eddie shook himself, flopping his shaggy blonde hair in his face. 

“I'm sorry. Anyway, it’s just that Crowley was hurting and you’re hurting....And maybe you would both hurt less if you were together....Because Crowley definitely needs you, and I'm pretty sure you need him too....And I'm overstepping. I'm sorry. I just...didn't want Crowley to be upset....But I'm sorry. I shouldn't have....I'll go now....”

Eddie scrambled off the bed. The motion of which woke the sleeping Little in Aziraphale’s arms. Yellow eyes looked curiously from Eddie standing awkwardly by the bed to the Angel holding him. 

Aziraphale brushed a curl out of Crowley's face. “Crowley, darling? Dearest boy, were you upset tonight? Did you not like me leaving you in the crib?”

Crowley frowned and let his paci drop from his mouth as he yawned. Then yellow eyes glared at Aziraphale and the demon pouted rather adorably. “Didn't like you leaving me in baby jail.”

It took Azirphale a second to realize that “baby jail” referred to the crib. (The angel thought that Crowley calling it “baby jail” was both overdramatic and adorable.) 

“Crowley....Did you think that when we...err...that is, I mean, when the mirror wraiths and I laughed earlier...that we were laughing at you?”

It had never occurred to Aziraphale that Crowley might think that. He had thought the demon was well and truly over his embarrassment over his wetting and diapers. But then again, Crowley was a rather sensitive creature. Could Aziraphale really expect centuries of self-loathing to disappear entirely within a few months? If Aziraphale had made his darling Crowley think that he was laughing at him for wetting he would never forgive himself. 

Crowley nodded. “But Eddie told me...,” Here Crowley yawned. “That you weren't laughing at me.” Crowley looked up at Aziraphale sharply. “You weren't....Were you? “

The angel hurried to reassure his baby “Of course were weren't laughing at you. Crowley, I would never. I absolutely adore you, darling, you should know that.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hair and kissed his face. Trying to convey all the love and admiration he could to his precious darling. 

“‘S alright, angel,” Crowley's eyes began to flutter closed once again. “Tell Eddie to get back in bed sssso we can ssssleep.” Crowley popped his pacifier into his mouth and snuggled into his angel, his eyes now entirely closed. 

Aziraphale motioned for Eddie to get back in bed; he wasn't about to deny his baby anything he wanted now. 

So the human and the angel lay there in uncomfortable silence (Eddie was really getting tired of uncomfortable silence by this point in the night), the sleeping demon between them. 

The silence stretched on with nothing to fill it, but Crowley's sleepy sniffling and the occasional crinkle of his plastic pants, for what felt like hours but was in actuality only minutes. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said quietly.


	160. Chapter 160

Eddie looked, quite frankly, alarmed, and turned towards Aziraphale with wide eyes. “For what?” he asked, sounding rather confused. 

The angel pursed his lips and looked at Eddie. He had thought it was rather obvious. “For taking care of Crowley, of course. As I have rather failed in that endeavor tonight.” His voice was tight, and as the angel looked down at the sleeping Little in his arms, Eddie was almost certain he saw the glossy sheen of tears in the angel's eyes. “Maybe you are more fit for the task than I.... I do rather question my competency these days. In my attempts to make things better, I only ever seem to make them worse for the poor, dear boy.”

(It should be noted here that Eddie was not, in fact, an idiot. He had never done well at anything his entire life quite simply because he had, and did, quite completely believe that he was, in fact, dumb, simply because all his life that is what everyone had told him. So when Eddie was not preoccupied thinking about how stupid he was, he could, on occasion, be very smart indeed.) “You...ah...you shouldn't.”

Azirphale looked at the human curiously. 

“Question you're er...competency, I mean. Yea, you're kind of dumb sometimes.” Eddie quickly looked to the angel after realizing what he had just said, but Aziraphale didn't look the least bit irritated or smite-y, so Eddie plucked up what little courage he had and continued on. 

“But you and Crowley are the best together I've ever seen two people be. It frightens me sometimes how much you love each other. Most people will never experience a fraction of that, and what, you want to martyr yourself? Throw it away because you had one bad day? Crowley needs you. As much as you need him. You're not a bad Caregiver. You just made a mistake.” Eddie looked down at his hands. 

“You shouldn't be punished for mistakes,” he said quietly, then cleared his throat and continued on a bit louder, though not loud enough to wake the baby. “All you have to do is to remember to ask Crowley next time what he wants. And remember that sometimes when we say things like ‘we want to be left alone,’ we don't really mean it.”

(That “we” did not escape Aziraphale’s notice.) What Eddie had said was sensible as well as passionate, and did make the angel feel as if all was not lost. Certainly there would be vigorous apologies to his darling, baby Crowley in the morning, and a great deal of special attention heaped on him. But Aziraphale would not make the mistake of leaving Crowley alone at night ever again. Unless his demon explicitly told him in words that he didn't want to sleep with him, Aziraphale would be carrying him into their bedroom and cuddling with him every night. 

“You really are a most clever and extraordinary human, Eddie.”

“Me?” Eddie said, rather shocked. A lot of words over the years had been used to describe him, but “clever” and “extraordinary” had definitely not made the list. “I'm really, really not.”

“Nonsense,” replied Aziraphale, primly. “I've known many more humans than you. I knew Adam and Eve, you know. I certainly know what I'm talking about.” (Aziraphale said it in such a way that Eddie did not dare argue, no matter how mistaken he was.) “Now. Do come a bit closer and lay down so Crowley knows you're there.... Yes, there's a dear boy, and off to sleep with you. Humans do need their sleep.”

Crowley seemed very happy to be sandwiched between two warm bodies and gave a happy little wiggle in his sleep, pressing his bony back and thicky diapered bottom against Eddie. Not that Eddie minded in the least. The weight of his friend, along with his clean, babyish scent, was comforting against him. Being with Crowley felt safe for Eddie, which was ironic as Crowley was a literal demon. Eddie snaked a tentative arm over the demon's thin tummy. 

Eddie started a bit as he felt a pudgy hand come to rest gently on that arm. But the angel was looking down at him with such a kind expression that Eddie soon relaxed, and just as the sun began to rise over London, Eddie fell asleep.


	161. Chapter 161

Crowley's wiggling woke Eddie up, and truthfully, he was a little annoyed looking at the clock, because he hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep. But when he saw the big yellow eyes looking up at him, Eddie felt his irritation melt away. He loved the way Littles looked at him when they were really Little. It made him feel as if he were important and loved and needed. Sensations that had been very lacking in every other aspect of his life. 

Eddie looked down at the (currently very) Little demon. “What do you want, hmmm?”

Crowley wiggled some more and pulled up his sweater, exposing thin, pale tummy and looked at Eddie expectantly. 

“Oh, I see; you want your diaper changed,” Eddie said teasingly, knowing that wasn't what the baby wanted in the least; he stuck his finger into one of the legholes of Crowley's plastic pants. The demon was quite wet, but in no danger of leaking anytime soon thanks to the many layers of absorbent padding Eddie had swaddled him in. “Aren't you a good, Little demon for wetting your diapers,” Eddie cooed at him. 

Aziraphale, who was now awake, looked at Eddie curiously. The blond blushed and shrugged. “I uh...thought that if I said nice things to Crowley everytime he wet, it might replace all the bad stuff that people have said to him before when he peed himself.”

Aziraphale’s face grew soft and he smiled, his whole being seemed to glow warmly, and for the first time Eddie could see why Crowley adored the angel so thoroughly. “I think that's a brilliant, lovely idea, my dear boy.”

Eddie looked down at his hands again, examining his chipped black nail polish. He didn't know what to do with all this praise. 

Crowley, it seemed, wasn't pleased that Eddie was no longer paying any attention at all to him. He made soft little noises of displeasure behind his pacifier and wiggled more fervently. 

Eddie turned back to the demon and smiled. “Oh you.... What was it you wanted? A bottle?”

Crowley shook his head, pulling his sweater up higher. 

“A tummy rub? Is that what you want?”

Crowley nodded fervently. 

Eddie bit his lip to stop himself from laughing as he finally put the Little out of his misery and began to rub the thin tummy. Aziraphale had no such restraint and giggled, his chubby cheeks going ruddy with mirth. 

Crowley went completely boneless under Eddie's ministrations, the upset of last night seemed to be forgotten and forgiven, leaving a happy baby in it's wake. Aziraphale suspected that Crowley would be quite Little yet for at least the entire day, as was usual after something had caused him distress. Aziraphale didn't mind in the least, in fact, he relished the chance to indulge his baby in every way possible after hurting and neglecting him so last night. There would, of course, be a proper apology once Crowley was Big enough to hear it; but for the moment Aziraphale would simply spoil the demon with affection, and maybe take this opportunity to get to know his human guest a bit better. 

Aziraphale looked fondly at his happy, baby demon who was wiggling in delight getting a belly rub. 

Crowley was making happy, baby noises, but under that a hissing noise could be heard. Aziraphale placed his hand on the demon’s bulky diaper, which was quite warm and by now sagging more than a little. “I do rather think someone could use a change. Oh! And maybe. A nice bubble bath.”

Crowley nodded and let his paci drop from his mouth as he hissed out a small, “Yessss.”

“I could...uhhhh...make breakfast...if you want? I'm sure it won’t be as good as what Jack or you or Gregor makes...but I can cook basic things.... That is...if you want?”

Aziraphale felt a rush of affection for the human. In many ways, Eddie reminded him so very much of Crowley. The angel decided right there and then that he would do everything in his power to make Eddie as content and unselfconscious as the demon he was currently scooping into his arms was now. He smiled gently, “I'm certain whatever you make will be lovely, thank you very much, dear boy.”

Eddie, as he always did when anyone said anything remotely nice to him, looked extremely confused and uncertain of what to say. This time he settled on a mumbled, “thank you,” and scuttled off, presumably to the kitchen. 

Aziraphale bounced the baby demon gently as he watched the human go. “He really is a dear boy, isn't he?”

In his arms, Crowley nodded sagely.


	162. Chapter 162

Eddie had always cooked, since he was quite small. Since no one else in his family had ever bothered, and he and his brother had been hungry, Eddie had learned to cook. All of his cooking was rather utilitarian - things from cans, pasta, frozen pizza, breakfast foods - but he was quite determined today to do his very best. He wanted to show Aziraphale how much he appreciated how nice to him he had been last night. The angel would surely have been well within his rights to tell Eddie to shove his opinions and kick him out of the bedroom, at least, if not the bookshop entirely. 

But Aziraphale had listened, and been kind, and let Eddie stay. And Eddie wanted to say thank you, and felt as if his words were far from enough, so he cooked eggs. 

Also, bacon, and sausages, and made toast soldiers (he thought Crowley might like those.) He made pancakes as well, as Aziraphale took his time getting Crowley bathed and diapered and dressed. 

He was setting the table and contemplating what else he could do when Aziraphale arrived with a freshly washed demon on his hip. 

Somehow Aziraphale had managed to coax Crowley out of his sweater (which was currently looking a little worse for the wear and sporting a couple of suspicious stains that it almost physically hurt Aziraphale not to be able to miracle away.) Though it seemed that Aziraphale only managed to get the demon into another one of his sweaters, as Eddie was certain that the far too big and pale pink one that Crowley was currently in was most definitely not his. Aziraphale had dressed him in black and white stripped, thigh high socks and placed a black hair bow in his hair. Eddie thought the demon looked really cute. Of course, Crowley always looked cute. There was just something about the demon that was so...endearing. 

Eddie was pleased to note that Aziraphale had diapered Crowley in a similar way to how he had last night, if the demon's thicky padded rump was anything to go by. Eddie was glad to have done something Crowley and Aziraphale both approved of. 

Crowley, it seemed, also approved of the toast soldiers. He happily fed himself while perched on Aziraphale's lap, managing to cover his face in egg yolk and toast crumbs. 

Aziraphale praised the food multiple times. Saying the eggs were cooked just right, and wasn't the bacon just the absolute perfect blend of crunchy but not burnt, and wasn't Eddie so kind as to cook for them. Crowley just nodded and returned to devouring toast soldiers, and then looked down and muttered a quiet, “thank you.”

After breakfast was done, and Eddie had cleaned the dishes (he insisted), while Aziraphale had cleaned the demon (who made the cutest little faces of irritation when his face was being scrubbed), Aziraphale suggested that they watch a film together. 

The angel had been slowly coming around to the idea of television. It helped that some of the books he enjoyed such as ‘Winnie the Pooh,’ ‘The Importance of Being Ernest,’ and ‘Johanthan Strange and Mr. Norrel’ had television adaptations. It would never, of course, replace a good book, but it wasn't an entirely unpleasant way to spend a few hours with friends. 

They had just settled onto the sofa when Aziraphale shot back up again, still with Crowley in his arms. “Oh wait here a moment, dear,” he told Eddie. “I'm going to give Gregor Crowley's sweater to clean.”

(It should be noted that since Crowley and Aziraphale could no longer just miracle everything conveniently clean, the mirror wraiths had taken over laundry duties. Aziraphale didn't know how they did it, exactly. He certainly didn't have a machine, and didn't think they did either. However, all the clothing came back very well-laundered and smelling faintly of ozone, so Aziraphale neither asked nor complained.) 

Aziraphale hurried out of the room, Crowley on his hip. Eddie had almost forgot that Gregor was still here. And Aziraphale was going to find him to give him the sweater...and probably talk to him, for the angel really was often very chatty. He would probably tell Gregor about what Eddie had done last night. The very thing that Gregor had told him not to do. Eddie was going to be out on his ass for sure, he thought. And he couldn't even complain it was unfair. Gregor had told him to leave Crowley alone, and he hadn't. 

Eddie felt sick. His chest felt tight and he struggled to breathe. His hands shook, so he fisted them in the black sweatpants he was still wearing from the night before. 

He would never see the twins again. Never play with them, or feed them a bottle, or find one of their creepy dolls in some place it definitely shouldn't be. He would never hear Helena's comforting voice or see Jack's stupid, psychotic grin. He would even miss Gregor's quiet and steady presence. They had all been so nice to him and he'd gone and fucked it up. 

Eddie breathed harder and squeezed his eyes shut. 

He was sure that Aziraphale wouldn't save him. Aziraphale was nice to him these past few hours, sure, but it wasn't him that was clothing and feeding and sheltering Eddie when it came down to it. 

He'd never see Crowley again either. 

Eddie felt like crying. 

Then, a rather horrified voice pulled him out of the dark abyss of his thoughts he was currently drowning in. 

“Goodness! My dear boy! Whatever is the matter?”


	163. Chapter 163

Eddie did not look well. Aziraphale had absolutely no idea whatsoever what was wring with the dear thing. He had been perfectly fine when Aziraphale had left the room, now he looked to be in a great deal of pain. He was as pale as death. And he was doubled over, his hands fisted in the soft material of his pants. His breaths came out in rather alarming wheezes, and, all in all, Aziraphale was quite concerned. All of the terrible diseases that could afflict humans ran through the angel's mind. 

The angel wasted no time in hurrying to the ailing human's side and inquiring what was wrong. 

The answer was not quite what the angel had been expecting. Instead of naming what bit of his body hurt or what morbid affliction was afflicting him; he instead began to babble about Gregor telling him not to bother Crowley and him going to see Crowley anyway. How now that he had, Gregor was going to kick him out and he would never see the twins, or the rest of the mirror wraiths, or Crowley ever again. 

Slowly, it began to dawn on Aziraphale what this was. It wasn't the onset of a deadly disease, but a fit of hysteria over what Eddie thought would be a certain and unhappy future. 

Aziraphale placed a hand over one of Eddie's clenched ones and encouraged the human to take deep breaths. Then, on a hunch, Aziraphale gently placed a rather worried Crowley in Eddie's arms. Eddie immediately curled into the demon. Wrapping his arms around the thin frame and burying his face in red curls. 

Crowley brought a hand up to run through Eddie's hair, making worried little cooing noises as he did. It did seem to serve to subside some of the human's rampant trembling. Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look, the way only people who have known each other for a very, very long time can. 

This just wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all, and Aziraphale was going to set this to rights this very instant. He stood up, announced that he would be back in two shakes of a lambs tail, (Crowley rolled his eyes at that) and bustled out of the room.


	164. Chapter 164

Eddie felt a thick hand being placed on his shoulder. He assumed it was Aziraphale once again, but when he opened his eyes it was Gregor. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. It was happening. Gregor was here to tell him to leave. 

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he clutched the thin demon closer to him, squeezing him so hard that it would have probably caused a normal human pain. 

“Peace, Eddie,” Gregor's low voice grumbled out. “I know what you think, and I'm telling you it's not so. You will not be turned out.”

Between gasps Eddie wheezed out, “But...you said...to not...bother...Crowley in...in the crib...and I didn't do...what...you said.”

Crowley squeezed him tighter and Gregor rubbed his hand up and down his shoulder. “Eddie, what I said was not an order. It was my opinion.... And I was wrong. You did what you thought best. And you were right. Crowley was upset, and you came to him, and comforted him. You did well, you saw something that I did not.”

Eddie looked at Gregor, really looked, searching for any sign of deception in his face. But he found none. 

Gregor continued on, his voice soft. “Your being with us is not conditional on you doing as we say. We would not take your ability to hold your own opinions, or make your own decisions, away from you. Unless you commit some grave harm against us you will not be forced to leave.”

Eddie felt a little stupid now, more than a little, and every bit of him was still tense and aching. Even though there was nothing to be afraid of now, he was still afraid. He was afraid that Gregor would suddenly change his mind and decide Eddie wasn't worth all this trouble after all. That he would think Eddie was stupid now. That he would tell the rest of the mirror wraiths about this and they would all laugh at how weak and stupid he was. 

“Why don't you have a rest? If you like. Maybe when you wake, the others will have returned and they might tell you the same thing I have. You are here with us for as long as you wish to be.”

“I think it's a rather splendid idea,” Aziraphale chimed in. “Would you like to sleep in my bed, dear? I'm certain Crowley would like to nap with you.”

Eddie's words caught in his throat and settled in an uncomfortable lump there, so he just nodded instead. Aziraphale and Gregor gently guided him to the bedroom. Eddie wouldn't let go of Crowley, though it was hard to carry him when his arms and legs felt stiff and shaky. 

He laid down and Crowley wriggled out of his grasp to toddle around the room, gathering stuffies and blankets to tuck around Eddie. The demon turned on the mobile over the bed as well as his toy projector that shone the constellations all over the walls and ceiling. 

Eddie realized that Crowley was trying to give him every comfort he knew, short of a bottle and pacifier, and it made Eddie give a tired little smile as Crowley snuggled against him. 

Aziraphale fussed, tucking the two of them in. It was nice.... Eddie couldn't remember the last time someone had tucked him in.(His mother must have stopped doing it when he was very young, if indeed she ever did it at all.) He kept asking if Eddie needed anything. Did he want Aziraphale to stay? Gregor? Did he want a light left on? Did he want a warm drink? Was he certain he would be alright? 

Eddie nodded that, “yes he would be fine on his own.” He really would have liked Aziraphale to stay, but he didn't want to bother the angel any more than he already had with his stupid freakout. He still felt terrible; but lying in the dark, slightly illuminated room, tucked into soft blankets, listening to the soft music made my the mobile, and holding Crowley's devil bear and unicorn, and the aforementioned demon himself, Eddie was starting to feel better. 

Crowley was clumsily stroking his hair and face, looking worried and adorable. Eddie held him tighter and told him, “it was all fine now, he was alright, it would all be okay.” And really hoped he wasn't lying.


	165. Chapter 165

Eddie woke up to two more bodies in the bed than had been there when he went to sleep. Crowley was lying sprawled atop him like a gangly weighted blanket so he couldn't roll over, but he could move his head. A twin, (Eddie didn't know which one and rather suspected that they didn't either, instead just using their names interchangeably) was lying next to him, sleeping. Their purple pacifier bobbbed up and down in their mouth. The twin looked blurrier than usual. All the mirror wraiths blurred a bit about the edges when they weren't in their mirror dimension, but this was much more noticeable than usual.

Eddie rubbed his eyes, but that didn't help. So he snaked a hand out of the covers and gently ran his fingers down Edgar's (or Ellen's - whatever the case may be) cheek. The twin felt less substantial than usual. It was difficult to describe. They were still solid. But Eddie felt as though if he pressed his fingers into their skin with force, he would be able to sink his hand inside their body. 

It was a concept that Eddie would have found almost funny if he hadn't been curled up with a demon and tucked in by an honest-to-the-God-apparently-actually-existed angel. 

He turned his head the other direction to find the other twin Ellen (or Edgar) in much the same condition. It worried Eddie. Were they alright? Were they fading? Would, in a few days, or hours, or weeks, they become more insubstantial, until there was nothing left of them at all? 

A gentle weight on his left turned his attention away from the twins. Helena was sitting on the edge of the bed; she, too, was faded, and Eddie realized that she must have been watching him sleep. If it had been pretty much anyone else, Eddie would have found it creepy. However, since it was Helena, Eddie only felt comforted by her presence. 

“Are you alright? You look...kind of blurry.”

Helena smiled down at him. She got up and moved closer to him, sitting next to one of the twins, and reaching over to stroke his hair. “We're fine. Only it takes...effort to maintain our physical forms so solidly. And where we went was rather tiresome, so we have less energy to spare for the moment. And how are you, sweetheart?”

“‘m fine,” Eddie blushed and squirmed, which procured an unhappy grunt from the demon lying on top of him. Gregor or Aziraphale must have told her about his freakout earlier. Eddie knew he'd both embarrassed himself and made everyone worry. 

“You know that we aren't going to make you leave us, sweetie. You shall only ever leave if you choose to do so, otherwise, I'm afraid, you're quite stuck with us.”

She ran her long nails through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly, and it felt so good that Eddie almost forgot to be embarrassed. 

“Sweetheart. I was thinking. You do so much, and I worry that it's overwhelming you. You don't always need to be doing things for us for us to care for you or keep you around. After all,” Helena smiled, “I do keep around Jack and he isn’t useful in the least.”

“I should pull my weight,” Eddie said, an echo of his father's familiar words. 

“Yes,” Helena nodded. “You should contribute where you can, it does make things go easier for all of us. But your weight isn't nearly as heavy as you believe it to be. We won't turn you out if you want to have a bit of a lie about. You don't always need to be serving us, Eddie.”

And Eddie simply didn't know what to do with that information; it felt too dangerous to trust in, too good to be true; so he focused on Helena's delightful head scratching instead. 

“I was thinking, sweetie, how would you like to be like the twins for a little while?”

Eddie didn't understand. “Like the twins?”

“Yes, sweetie, Little.”

“I'm a Caregiver, I can't just switch. I can't just be a Little.”

“I certainly don't expect you to switch entirely, dear. I have a feeling you always will be looking after the twins and Crowley, you do seem to enjoy it so. But I do think you would rather enjoy of bit of Little time, letting us look after you.”

“I cant just be Little. Do you want me to be Little?” Eddie asked. Being taken care of sounded...more than nice, but it was never something he would have thought of doing on his own. He wasn't sure he could, after all, he was a Caregiver not a Little. If Helena wanted him to be Little though.... He would certainly try. She was always so kind to him, it was the least he could do for her.

“Why ever not, sweetie? You can be anything you want,” and Helena said it like she really believed that. Though Eddie supposed it was easier to believe anything was possible when you were a supernatural creature. 

“I dont want you to do anything you don't want to do. Though I do think it would be very beneficial for you. And I'm certain the twins would love it as well. It's up to you sweetie, it's always up to you.”

“I'll try...,” Eddie bit his lip. “But you won't be mad at me if I can't, will you?”

Helena smiled. “Of course not,

sweetheart. I'm very happy, and we'll take care of you very well, whatever happens.” And she leaned over a sleeping twin to press a kiss to Eddie's cheek. Then she went back to giving him head scritches until his eyelid grew heavy and he fell back asleep.


	166. Chapter 166

Eddie felt kind of dumb. He was standing in the guest bedroom (which, at this point, was more accurately titled ‘the mirror wraiths’ bedroom’) waiting, as Helena brought in armfuls of things and laid them out the bed. 

“Now, sweetheart,” she said, standing before him. “Do you remember your special word from when you had a spanking?”

Eddie nodded. 

“Now, if you want things to stop for whatever reason, you just say your word.”

Eddie nodded again. He didn't trust himself to speak. 

“Now, would you like to choose what to wear, sweetie? Or would you like me to?”

“You,” Eddie said shyly. 

Helena smiled and began to undress him. It was odd...but not as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. He had realized by now that the mirror wraiths didn't think anything of nakedness. It wasn't shameful or associated with sexual things like it was for humans. It just was. So Eddie didn't bother to be embarrassed about his nudity. However, he did bother to be embarrassed that Helena was now laying him on a cushy changing pad and very obviously preparing to diaper him. 

Eddie covered his face with an arm. He was probably a hypocrite. All the times he had told Crowley having his diaper changed was nothing to be ashamed of, and he couldn't stop himself from being ashamed. It was different though, Eddie thought, Crowley was a real Little and Eddie...Eddie wasn't. 

Helena smoothed the down the last tape of Eddie's diaper and went to fetch a pair of frosty white plastic pants to put over it.

The diaper actually felt really nice. It was incredibly soft and felt sort of comforting, in a way that Eddie hadn't known a piece of clothing could be. He relaxed into the feeling, his eyes closed, and his muscles untensing. 

“Do you like your diaper, sweetie?”

Eddie blushed, “‘s fine.”

Helena helped him into the crinkly plastic pants, then a soft pair of black cotton pants, black and white stripped socks, and his “Child's Play” t-shirt, which Eddie though was both appropriate and funny. 

“Now, you will tell me or one of the others when you're wet, sweetie, won't you?” 

Eddie wasn't going to wet, he wasn't a real baby like Crowley or the twins, and he definitely wasn't curious at all about what it would feel like if he did. But he didn't want to argue with Helena, so he just made an agreeable noise.

“There we are, sweetie, all dressed and ready to play with the others.” And she picked him up. 

Eddie instinctively wrapped his arms around her neck. She still was blurry and looked a bit tired, but Eddie, oddly enough, still felt safe in her not-completely-solid arms.

She walked out of the bedroom, and Eddie burried his face in her shoulder. He didn't want to see everyone else. He felt stupid, and they would probably laugh at him. Aziraphale had just started to like, or at least not completely hate, him. And how would the twins and Crowly feel about this? He had been their Caregiver and now he was expected to play with them. It would be awkward and weird and they would all know he was just pretending. 

As if sensing his troubled thoughts, Helena brought up the hand that wasn't supporting his diapered bottom to give him head scritches. Eddie pushed into the wonderful sensation, and before he knew it, Helena was sitting down and arranging him in her lap. 

Eddie looked around the room, examining each expression for any signs that they were about to laugh at him. No one was really paying him much mind. The twins, who had been very, very Little since they had gotten back, were both napping in Jack’s and Gregor's arms respectively, and Aziraphale had his nose burried in some ancient looking book. Crowley, however, Crowley was staring at him with a very odd expression on his face. 

He watched as Crowley slipped off his angel's lap where he had been perched, and toddled (quite literally; the demon always walked rather weirdly and his thick diaper only served to make him walk even more weirdly) over to Eddie with a determined look on his face


	167. Chapter 167

Eddie closed his eyes and shrunk back into the safety of Helena's arms as Crowley extended a fisted hand towards him.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, the Little demon Crowley only wants to give you something,” Helena whispered in his ear. 

Eddie opened his eyes. In Crowley's outstreched hand was a black pacifier. Eddie carefully took it, feeling very unsure. Eddie really, really didn't want to offend his friend, so he brought the pacifier to his mouth. He gave it an experimental suck. It felt alright. It was kind of calming having the weight of the nipple in his mouth, and it gave him something else to chew on other than his lip or his piercings. 

Not wanting to be ungrateful, Eddie said, “Thank you.” 

Crowley then held out the black unicorn that he had tucked under his arm. “It'ssss only,” he said firmly, “until you get plushiessss of your own.”

Eddie gratefully took the unicorn. He had always enjoyed holding the twins’ dolls or Crowley's plushies when he played with the Littles. Holding the plushie certainly felt less ridiculous than the diaper or the pacifier. 

Crowley looked him up and down. “Right then, you're sssstill big enough to help me take care of the twinssss?” (His forked tounge wiggled out of his mouth on the ‘s’ sound, a sort of tell that Crowley was feeling Little, like reverting to a toddler’s lisp, except distinctly more reptilian.) 

As soon as Crowley had seen how Little the twins were, he had instantly decided that he would be the one to take care of them, like they had done for him. 

Aziraphale, in particular, thought it was very adorable, and endlessly cooed over his thoughtful Little demon taking care of his Little friends. This had resulted in many whines of, “aaaangellll,” from the demon in question. 

Eddie was a bit offended. Of course he would help take care of the twins, and he said as much. 

Crowley nodded approvingly. “Wanna watch TV?”

Eddie hugged the unicorn tighter. “Can we watch ‘The Addams Family’?”

“Sure,” Crowley said. 

Eddie and Crowley were arranged in a pile of blankets and plushies on the sofa. By the time they were situated, the twins were awake and wanted to watch ‘The Addams Family,’ too. The twins really, really liked ‘The Addams Family.’ (All the mirror wraiths did. Eddie suspected it was because they would have fit right in with the Addams clan; as they were weird, and scary, and some of their hobbies may kill you, but they were also very, very nice.) 

So a twin was placed in each of their laps to cuddle while they watched the show, and an episode or two in, Aziraphale and Gregor came with bottles for the twins and sippy cups for Crowley and Eddie. 

Eddie kind of liked the sippy cup. He always worried about breaking other people's things, especially glasses and plates. Breaking things, even on accident, had never gone down well in his childhood home. When he was working for Nathaniel, Annie would often break things and blame him. Nathaniel, of course, would believe his little princess and would demand that Eddie pay for whatever it was (usually wine glasses or vases) out of his salary. Which was rather hard to do as Nathaniel didn't pay him a salary. (His job was pretty much a room and board affair.) At least with a lidded, plastic cup you didn't have to work about dropping or spilling it. 

Several more sippy cups full of juice and episodes of ‘The Addams Family’ later, and Crowley asked Eddie if he wanted to play now instead. Eddie wanted to do whatever Crowley wanted to do. So they and the twins went to take up residence where all the toys were: Crowley's play tent. 

Immediately, one of the twins pointed to an empty spot in the row of dolls and cried, “El Nor! El Nor!”

Crowley turned to Eddie, “Which one is Eleanor?”

“Uhhhh...the creepy one?”

Crowley rolled his eyes at him. “They're all bloody creepy.”

Eddie looked more closely at the dolls that were there. “I think she's the one with blonde hair and a blue dress and the cracked face and missing eye?”

Crowley nodded, “We'll have to find her.”

For a moment, Eddie almost suggested they go and ask the Caregivers for help, then he remembered that he was a Caregiver. He could find one slightly (very) disturbing doll that moved on its own. 

Crowley was sucking on his pacifier thoughtfully as he tucked the twins into a pile of blankets, pillows, and plushies. “You take the bedroomssss and bathroom. I'll take the kitchen and sitting room. Then, if we still can't find her, we'll go down to the bookshop.... And don't forget to look in the closetssss.”

Eddie nodded. He could do that. Crowley toddled off towards the living room and he went towards the guest bedroom. 

Helena and Jack were sleeping inside, but they didn't stir as Eddie quietly tiptoed in and looked around. Not finding Eleanor, he snuck back out as quietly as he came. 

She wasn't in the bathroom either, so Eddie headed to Aziraphale’s and Crowley's bedroom. He was bent over looking under the bed, when his bladder gave a rather painful spasm. He'd been holding it in all day, not wanting to bother anyone by asking them to take off his diaper so he could use the bathroom, as Helena had specifically told him he wasn't allowed to remove his diaper himself. 

Another cramp hit, and Eddie grasped his crotch through the thick material of the diaper. 

He would just get up and take it off himself to use the bathroom. It was, after all, an emergency at this point. He could just dispose of this diaper and put a new one on and no one would ever know. 

Of course, since he was going to throw this diaper away he could just...use it. Just satisfy that teeny bit of curiosity about what it felt like. And this way he wouldn't be making any of the others clean up his mess. He could do it himself and no one would ever be the wiser. 

He stood up slowly, which was all the input his bladder really needed to give out. The warmth inside of the thick padding felt absolutely wonderful. As he was peeing, Eddie fished around in his pocket for the paci Crowley had given him earlier. He hastily stuck it in his mouth and began to suck. He closed his eyes. This felt so good. Better than good. He felt small and warm and comforted. Was this how it felt to be Little? Was he getting a taste of what Crowley and the twins got to experience all the time? 

Eddie imagined how good this would be if he had the unicorn plushie wrapped tightly in his arms, or better yet, was curled up in bed, swaddled in blankets and snuggled tightly in someone's arms. 

He was pulled out of his pleasant fantasy by the bedroom door creaking open. It was as if all that pleasant warmth Eddie had felt a moment ago vanished, and he was left with only a cold, hollow feeling in his gut and a creeping sense of shame. 

Eddie really, really hoped it was the twins’ stupid doll. He hoped it would kill him, like creepy dolls did in the moves he watched, because he definitely couldn't live with the shame of what he had just done, let alone anyone else knowing about it. 

Of course, Eddie thought, as he slowly turned around to face a smiling Jack, he could never be so lucky.


	168. Chapter 168

“Crowley wanted me to tell you that he found Eleanor. She was on top of the fridge. Don't really know how she got herself up there, naughty thing. But, well, the twins are happy to have her back.”

Jack then held out his hand, as if meaning Eddie to take it. Eddie just stared at the long pale fingers uncomprehendingly. 

He could feel the wet diaper heavy between his legs, a blatant physical reminder of the shameful thing he'd just done. He wasn't meant to actually use the diaper, he was sure. It was just a game, he was just playing at being Little, and when Helena and the others found out they would be disgusted. 

Did Jack already know? Could he see the sagging diaper through his pants? What should he do? He looked at Jack, who was still holding out his hand, his brows now drawn together in confusion. “Say, are you alright?”

Eddie breathed out. It didn't seem that Jack could tell. He gave a jerky nod and took Jack's hand. Eddie would just have to act like nothing was wrong until he had a chance to sneak away and dispose of the shameful thing and put on a new diaper. 

Jack lead him back to the play tent where Crowley and the twins were building rather structurally unsound block towers. A few of the dolls swiveled their heads to look at them on their arrival, and maybe it was a commentary on the state of his life that that didn't worry Eddie in the least.(He noted that Eleanor was back in her spot, looking oddly smug.) 

Eddie cautiously sat down, and he could feel his diaper squish under him. 

Even thought they were very Little, the twins seemed to sense something was wrong, and looked at him curiously. It worried Eddie. The twins were more observant and clever than Crowley, (who was far busy using his toy dragon to attack his block tower to notice anything) or Jack who was...a bit mentally negligible at the best of times. 

Edgar (or Ellen) pressed a block into his hand, and, not wanting to give away that there was anything wrong, Eddie accepted it and began to listlessly build a block tower. 

Jack announced that he was going to get them all juice, and patted Eddie on the head before he walked off. 

“Wet,” one of the twins said suddenly. 

“What!” Eddie replied, feeling his heart skip a beat. 

Crowley, not looking up from his block tower, replied, “They're saying you wet your diaper.”

“I didn't! I wouldn't! I'm not a baby!”

“Neither am I,” Crowley sniffed haughtily, “and you've still wet your diaper.”

“I haven't!” said Eddie, his voice was loud now and unnaturally high. 

Crowley shrugged, “It's alright if you have, just go get it changed and then you can help us build a block castle for my dragon to tear down. I'm thinking of playing ‘We Will Rock You’ during my dragon’s rampage, what do you think?”

“I didn't wet my diaper!” Eddie said again. 

Crowley was clearly annoyed by the lack of response to his idea, which he himself thought was rather brilliant. “Then show ussss!”

“What?” said Eddie. 

Crowley rolled his snakey eyes. “Show ussss your diaper if you’re so determined to prove it'ssss dry.”

Eddie felt his blood run cold and his bone marrow get frost bite. He looked with wide, frightened eyes at Crowley, then the twins, then at Jack, who had returned with sippy cups and bottles. 

Luckily for Eddie, Helena had taken Jack aside and explained to him some things about humans (and occasionally demons and angels) and shame (which Jack found a ridiculous concept. How did humans ever get anything done when they were so busy being ashamed of themselves all the time?), and Jack's one, rather latent, brain cell had woken up enough to inform him that now might be one of the times that their human might be ashamed. 

So Jack set down the drinks, and asked, “If it wouldn't be better if we checked Eddie in the bedroom, hmmmm?” And led the still terribly frightened looking human gently away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I haven't been answering comments. I've been busy with Christmas (technically giftmas, as no one is really religious here) crap and I hate it. Someone please come and save me. I'm only baby and I can't take this. 😭 My Christmas wish at this point is for Krampus to come and eat me. 
> 
> But I do read every comment and appreciate them and I'll try to do better.


	169. Chapter 169

Eddie was staring pointedly at his striped socks. “Please don't,” he whispered. 

Jack, who very seldom knew what to say, but occasionaly knew what to do, simply picked Eddie up and plopped him on the bed, then began to tickle him mercilessly. 

Eddie writhed and laughed and ineffectually tried to bat Jack’s hands away. Jack eventually tired and simply sprawled out on top of Eddie, who was busy wiping tears from his eyes and trying to catch his breath. 

“There now,” said Jack, sitting up, “shall we see about your diaper?” Jack gently began to tug down Eddie's pants to reveal the sagging, and obviously very wet, garment. 

Eddie's earlier mirth after being tickled disappeared in a flash. “I didn't...I mean, I won't do it again! I...I was just curious what it felt like...and...and I'm really, really sorry. I won't do it again.”

Jack just hummed (he thought it was calming, but really, he sounded like a malfunctioning refrigerator) and rubbed Eddie's pale tummy. “It's perfectly fine. It feels rather nice, doesn't it?”

Eddie's eyes widened. “You mean you've tried it?”

And with absolutely no hint of shame whatsoever Jack replied, “Yes.”

“But you're not Little at all?”

“No, not in the least.”

Eddie didn't know quite why he was so surprised. This was a person he had once walked in on licking the walls to see what they tasted like. (It had been Crowley's suggestion.) Not to mention the things he'd done with the dead armadillo and the alarm clock the other day. Wearing and wetting a diaper just for fun probably didn't even make the list of top ten weird things Jack had done this week. 

“Do you...do it often?”

“Wear diapers? Sometimes; haven't in a while. It's rather nice during a nap. A nice warm diaper.”

It made Eddie feel better, and he fractionally relaxed as Jack slid the changing mat under him and began to remove his wet diaper. Jack couldn't be mad at him for peeing his diaper, because Jack had done the same thing. 

Unbeknownst to Eddie, his eyes began to close and his thumb slipped into his mouth. When he realized it, he removed the wayward digit with a wet pop. 

“Would you...ummmm...would you wear one now?”

Eddie wished he hadn't asked as soon as the words were out of his mouth. But Jack only smiled (wider, as Jack was always smiling. It was quite unsettling if you weren't used to it) and told Eddie that he would love to, and suggested a nap after noticing Eddie's drooping eyelids. He pulled Eddie's pants back up over his fresh diaper. Then he tucked Eddie into the bed and kissed him on the brow, telling him that he would go check on the twins and Crowley, then bring back the unicorn plushie and Eddie's paci and they could take a nice nap together. 

Eddie watched as Jack left, and his eyes slipped closed and his thumb found its way once again into his mouth. 

When he woke up, Jack was climbing into bed with him. Jack was now wearing a very short and garish silk kimono that was loosely fastened enough to show his obviously diapered crotch. It made Eddie relax. He couldn't tell you exactly why, but knowing that Jack was wearing diapers made Eddie feel so much better about everything. It made this...whatever it was that Eddie was doing now (because he wasn't a real Little, he wasn't. Surely if he was, he would have know?) seem less like something shameful and more like an acceptable (albeit odd) pastime with a friend. 

Jack gave Eddie the paci and the plushie and began to stroke his hair. “You’re such a good Little, you know. Such a good Caretaker, too.”

Eddie turned to look sleepily at Jack. “I'm not really a Little, you know.”

“Don't you want to be? I though you liked your paci and your plushie, and playing with the twins and Crowley?”

“I do...but it doesn't matter what I like. I'm not a Little. I can't just be one because I like some Little things. If I was a Little I'd know by now, I'm 25. (He thought he was 25, anyway. He'd lost track of his birthdays a long time ago.) I'd know....”

Jack's brows furrowed. “Do humans all know everything about themselves all at once? Sound suspect to me.”

“Errrr...no.”

“Well then,” said Jack resolutely, “why can't you have just found out something new about yourself? And anyway, why can't you just be Little if you want to?”

“Because things don't work that way.”

Jack shrugged, “Then change them.”

As if it were that simple. Maybe it was, at least in the mirror wraiths' world. The world Eddie was in now. A world where all the rules he'd ever known of what he could and couldn't be or do no longer applied. Maybe he could be Little, just for a while. And even if he was just pretending, who would know. Or care? It might...it might be nice to have someone look after him. Just a little. He wouldn't be too much trouble. Only maybe he could be tucked in once in a while, and play with Crowley and the twins, and wet the occasional diaper. (It had felt so very good.) “If I...if I wanted to try being Little, what would I do?”

Jack looked delighted and sprung out of bed. Eddie tried to call after him to tell him that his kimono was open and his diaper was visible, but he was gone before Eddie could get any of the words out. 

Jack returned with a bottle of milk. He set it on the bedside table while he wrapped Eddie securely in a coccon of blankets and situated the nervous human into his lap. 

As soon as Eddie took his first suck of the bottle, he began to unclench his tired muscles. For maybe the first time since he was an actual baby he sunk into a state of pure and utter relaxation. He was warm and cozy wrapped up in Jack’s arms, wonderful tasting milk filling his tummy, and his mind pleasantly hazy. He felt good. He actually felt good. He was vaguely aware of a warm wetness seeping into his diaper, but what did he care when he was so safe and cozy? 

Jack would fix it. He thought, as his eyes begain to close. Jack was nice and he wouldn't laugh at him because he wore diapers, too. The last thought the sleepy human was aware of was a gentle kiss being pressed to his temple.


	170. Chapter 170

Jack woke to Eddie staring up at him with big eyes. The mirror wraith could tell by the slightly glazed look of his eyes that Eddie was truly and deeply in Little space. Jack squished Eddie's cheeks and took a moment (actually several moments) to coo over him, before he scooped up the Little and bounced him up and down, making him giggle. 

Jack had no trouble laying Eddie down on the changing mat and taking off his wet diaper. Eddie didn't protest or look ashamed, he just happily sucked on his paci and played with the plush unicorn as Jack taped up a new diaper. 

Jack pulled up Eddie's pants and carried him out of the room. He found Helena sitting on the sofa reading ‘The Tell Tale Heart’ to the twins, who were cuddled up next to her. (The twins were great fans of Poe no matter how Little they were.) 

Helena looked at Eddie curiously. “Is he completely Little? I did think it would take more time than that.”

“What can I say, I'm just that motherly,” he said, burying his face in Eddie's blond hair. 

Helena snorted. 

Eddie reached out in her direction, making grabby hands. “Hold babies.”

“Oh, you want to hold one of the twins, sweetie?”

Eddie nodded. So Jack set him down on the sofa so that Helena could situate a twin in his lap. Eddie immediately began to cuddle the twin and whisper things to them like, “good baby,” and wave the plush unicorn in front of them. The twin was obviously delighted at this; and giggled and wiggled and made ineffectual grabs for the plushie. 

Jack practically melted. He clasped his hands, and his eyes got misty, and he was contemplating saying nauseatingly soppy things like, “awwww,” or “how precious.”

Gregor, who had snuck up behind Jack, patted his diapered bottom. “You need a change.”

“I'm fineeee,” Jack whined. Showing less maturity that the actual baby who's diaper he had just changed. 

“You'll get a rash. Would you like me to change you into another diaper?”

Eddie was staring attentively at Jack now, awaiting his answer. 

Jack nodded, “Yes, I'd like another diaper.” Jack then flopped bonelessly into Gregor’s arms like a swooning maiden in a terrible romance novel. “Change me, please.”

On the sofa, Helena snorted. 

Gregor, unbothered by Jack's theatrics, picked him up and carried him to the bedroom. 

No sooner than they had left did Aziraphale and Crowley enter, hand in hand. They had been in the kitchen having a between meal snack. (Or, Aziraphale had, and Crowley had been watching, occasionally allowing the angel to coax him into having a bite.) 

Crowley wasted no time in grabbing a twin and placing himself on the sofa next to Eddie. Crowley was absolutely delighted at how Little Eddie was. Eddie would be so much more fun now that he wasn't worrying about hiding his wet diapers and whether he was being Little right or not. 

And, thought Crowley, if anyone deserved to be taken care of it was Eddie. Eddie deserved the care and adoration of Aziraphale and the mirror wraiths far more than he did. Eddie had had a terrible time of life in general, but still somehow managed to be good and caring in a way Crowley never could be. Also, Crowley just really liked Eddie. He was one of the first humans that Crowley could have ever really called a friend and meant it. 

“He needs toyssss,” Crowley proclaimed. “And diaperssss. And bibs, and soft pajamas with feet, and pacifiers. Also bottles, and a blankie, and plushies, and onsies, and bottles, and sippy cupssss.”

Crowley ticked off the list until he ran out of fingers to hold up. 

Aziraphale beamed at his darling Little demon. “How very kind of you, my dear boy, to think of your friend like that.”

Crowley hissed at the angel, wiggling his little forked tounge and spitting a little onto the unfortunate twin caught in the crossfire. "It'ssss not nice, angel! It'ssss practical. He'ssss a baby! He needssss thingssss!”

Aziraphale just looked at Crowley with boundless fondness. 

“Dun need things,” a blushing Eddie chimed in. 

“Nonsense,” said Helena, giving his head a reassuring scratch. “You certainly do, and even if you didn't, we would get them for you anyway.”

Crowley laid his pointy chin on Eddie's shoulder and grinned. “Don’t worry Eddie, I'll take care of you.”

Eddie felt like he should definitely be worried.


	171. Chapter 171

Crowley was pouting, and it was adorable. On the way to the toy shop, the demon had spied a shiny pound coin on the sidewalk. Being a good and greedy demon Crowley went, “ohhhh, free money!” and scurried over to pick it up; then fell flat on his face as the coin was superglued to the ground. 

Eddie laughed. Then Aziraphale dryly informed them that Crowley himself had glued the coin to the sidewalk as an evil, demonic deed. Crowley, Eddie decided, was either a terrible demon or the human race had really overblown the idea of the scariness of demons, and said as much. And he laughed again. 

Then he felt terrible for laughing; he remembered the small, sobbing mess that Crowley had been last time he had been laughted at. So Eddie hurried and caught up to the pouting demon, and linked their hands together. 

“Sorry for laughing, I didn't mean it. I'm sure you're a perfectly, uuuuhhhh, demony-demon.”

Crowley sniffed, and side-eyed Eddie behind his dark glasses, but he didn't really seem upset. “I'm a very demony-demon! I got LoAdS of accommodations from Hell! I made sweaters itchy! I made Christmas commercial! I started World War 1!”

Eddie belived that Crowley had done exactly none of those things. But he wanted to be a supportive friend, so he just smiled, and nodded, and said, “I'm sure you did.... It all sounds very, erm...evil?”

Crowley nodded approvingly, but Eddie could hear Aziraphale giggling behind him. 

Eddie squeezed the demon's hand in his own. He was nervous. He felt bigger than he had when he'd been very Little, but still small. It was all very strange and disconcerting. He wasn't quite certain if he liked it or not. Things like diapers felt so very good, but also brought up uncomfortable memories and old fears. He'd been a sickly and timid child who'd wet his bed and pants for ages. His mother had been annoyed, his father had been disgusted, and the other children had made fun of him. Eventually, he had taught himself to go to the bathroom frequently and never, ever drink anything before he went to bed. 

Come to think of it, those had been early signs that he'd might be a Little, but they could also have been signs of him being an ill kid; but he'd never really been given the opportunity to explore any Little feeling he might have had. He also showed all the signs of being Caregiver, and Switches were rare. 

Eddie never thought he would want to be a Little anyway. It seemed terrifying being small and needy and having to have someone to look after you. But Aziraphale and Crowley and the mirror wraiths had done nothing but encourage him to do whatever he enjoyed. 

So far it seemed as if Eddie's Little headspace fell at about four years old. Which was, by a lot of people's reckoning, too old for things like diapers and pacifiers and being bottle fed. But the mirror wraiths gave him no less attention than they did the Littler Littles, and Eddie kind of loved it. Eddie was pretty sure that Jack was even wearing diapers just so he'd feel more comfortable with it. They were such a weird yet loving family. 

And he was also definitely going to screw it up, like he had all the other good things in his life.

The shop loomed before them, and though Eddie had been here before, his previous visit hadn't been for him, like this one was, and that made it all the more terrifying. What if he picked something that was too expensive? He'd leaked a little into his diaper when he'd laughed earlier, what if Jack (because Jack was the only person Eddie would let change him, much to the mirror wraiths' delight) decided he need a change in an actual changing room in public? Well, it wouldn't actually be in public, he was pretty sure that Jack knew enough about human conventions not to just lay out the changing mat in the middle of the store. But he'd still be being changed in a public changing area. And that terrified Eddie. 

Also what if someone saw him Little? People had seen him here before as a Caregiver. Wouldn't they think it was weird and suspicious that he was a Little now? Maybe they'd think he was just faking it for attention. Hell, sometimes Eddie though he might be faking it for attention. He still wasn't certain that he was really Little, but he absolutely loved the care and attention and cuddles he'd been getting. 

Eddie chewed on his lip, and Crowley, sensing his distress, squeezed his hand. The demon looked over to him. “It'ssss alright. I told you, I'll take care of you.”

That didn't make Eddie feel any better


	172. Chapter 172

They decided to pick out clothes first. Despite Eddie's protesting that they already had bought him clothes, the mirror wraiths had simply replied that he didn't have Little clothes. Crowley, who was quite literally the original Goth, was happy to help Eddie pick out Goth appropriate Little attire. 

He was, actually, Eddie discovered, quite good at it. Several horror themed onesies and matching bibs, a replica of Chucky's overalls and shirt, black converse sneakers, and a shirt that said "little terror" on it all made their way into the cart, along with quite a few other items. Eddie even mustered up the courage to tentatively pick out a skeleton onesie and a similar pair of footie pajamas for himself. 

When they had finished clothes shopping, Helena took Eddie aside and asked him gently if he wanted to pick out his diapers, sippy cups, bottles, and pacifiers; or if he would like to go and pick out toys and trust Helena, Gregor, and Aziraphale to pick out his things for him. 

Eddie felt sort of relieved, and told her that he trusted them to pick out things for him. Though he did shyly ask for pull-ups. He thought that maybe if he was going to wear diapers sometimes, it might be better if they were diapers he could change himself. That way he wouldn't be making Jack change him all the time. 

Helena just stroked his face, and looked at him fondly, and told him, “of course, sweetheart, you can have whatever you want.” Then she kissed his forehead and suggested that he, Crowley, and Jack go pick out some toys. 

At the mention of toys, the twins popped out of the stroller they had been napping in. Obviously they were coming with. They each grabbed an arm and began to gently guide (drag, they were dragging him) to the toy section. 

Eddie didn't know what to do once he was there. There were so many toys. He'd never played with toys much. As a kid, the few he had had had been given to his little brother by his mother as soon as his brother was old enough to play with them. He'd played with Littles, but he'd always just played whatever games they'd wanted to play, never making any of his own, or choosing the toys they'd played with. 

“You're supposed to pick out the toys you want, not just stare at them,” one of the twins said. 

“But...I don't know how to play with toys. I don't want to get things I won't use...and...and...like, what if I pick something that's too expensive?”

The twins rolled their eyes in perfect unison. “We'll get whatever you want, even if it costs a million monies.”

“You're just like Crowley.”

“But don't worry, we'll help you pick out toys until you get the hang of it yourself, just like we did with him.”

The twins then scurried off, presumably to go and find Eddie-friendly toys, which left Crowley staring at the human in question. 

Crowley was nothing like Eddie. He would like to make that very clear, please and thank you. Eddie was needy, timid, and unsure. Crowley had invented cool (literally). He was suave, and mysterious, and full of demonic wiles and general badness. 

Eddie was intrinsically a rather likable guy who'd just been thrown a shit hand by you-know-who, which made him insecure. He constantly needed reassurance that things he wanted were alright and that people weren't going to leave him. (It was a bit tiresome, to be honest. Everyone obviously loved Eddie so much. Of course they were going to care for him. Couldn't Eddie see that?) Crowley certainly wasn't insecure. He didn't worry that people he loved would leave him. He didn't worry about people making fun of him for wetting his diapers or wanting a bottle. Crowley did hesitate to pick out toys because he worried that he would fuck it up somehow...and FuCk. Crowley was Eddie. CrOwlEy wAs EdDiE! 

Not literally, of course, but there were certain parallels. Was Crowley also annoyingly insecure? Was he...was he...not cool? (Crowley could think of nothing worse, short of losing Aziraphale.) 

Crowley didn't like this sudden bout of self-realization he was experiencing, so he did what he always did with unpleasant thoughts. He stuffed them into a small, dusty box in the back of his mind, sat on the lid until it closed, then locked it, chucked it into some dark abyss, and turned his thoughts to more important things: namely, toys. (These unpleasant thoughts, however, had not been seen the last of and would of course find their way back to the forefront of his mind. Probably at the worst time possible.)

He grasped Eddie's hand and pulled him towards the soft toys. Everyone needed a soft toy to cuddle with, and he would find Eddie the perfect one. Something black. Something cool, a unicorn like his perhaps? Maybe two plushies, or four, or six; yes that was a good number, six.


	173. Chapter 173

“It's almost Christmas!” Gabriel bellowed, as he burst through the door to Beelzebub's chambers. (Though Gabriel had been reinstated in Heaven, he had developed the rather irritating habit of “visiting” Beelzebub, both in her office and in her living area. She'd tried everything to keep the bastard out, but he kept bursting through every anti-Gabriel ward she set. At this point, she more than suspected that it was God having a right laugh at her expense.) 

Beelzebub glared over the top of the book she was reading. “Whoop-de-fucking-do. Please tell me why I should care?”

Gabriel pursed his lips in disapproval. “For one, it's an important Godly holiday.”

“Stolen from the pagans.”

“We just made it better,” Gabriel sniffed. “More meaningful. It's now used to celebrate an important religious figure's birth. Instead of it being about winter...or goats, or whatever it used to be about.”

“You and I both know Christ wasn't born anywhere near December.”

Gabriel waved his had dismissively. “Haven't you heard that it's the thought that counts?”

Beelzebub rolled her eyes. “Since when have you ever thought?”

“I think all the time. Very clever thoughts.”

Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, “Like what?”

Gabriel thought for a moment, but apparently came up blank, because he just insisted that they go back to talking about his original purpose for bothering her, which was Christmas. 

“So what?” Beelzebub asked. “Is Christmas the only Heaven-endorsed holiday, then? What about Chanukah? The Feast of Steven?”

Gabriel grimaced, “That's all beside the point.” (It should be noted here that Gabriel did not, in fact, know Heaven's official position on holidays, because it simply didn't have an offical one. Heaven just used whatever holiday suited their needs at that particular time.) “I have a special gift for Raphael! And Christmas is the perfect time to give it to him. Littles like Christmas, don't they?”

Beelzebub snorted. “Littles like getting gifts.” She finally gave up on her reading and threw her book on the table. “So what is it that's so special, anyway?”

Without any invitation, Gabriel sat on the sofa beside her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box that definitely wasn't small enough to have fit in said pocket. He opened it up and took out two dolls. 

They were, even Beelzebub could admit, beautifuly made. They were about thirteen inches tall and articulated with ball joints. The little faces were extremely detailed, with shiny lifelike eyes staring up at her, and at once she recognized Gabriel's stupid face. He was wearing the stupid white robes angels had favored once upon a time, and sported a large pair of feathery, white wings that Beelzebub suspected were made of real angel feathers. 

The other figure took her a moment to recognize in her hazy memories of Heaven. But it was undoubtedly the Archangel Raphael - long red curls, fluffy white wings, and all. 

The dolls were perfect representations of the past selves of both Archangels.

“What? No doll of me? Didn't I make the cut?” said Beelzebub, because she couldn't think of anything disparaging to say about the dolls themselves. (She had enough sense not to touch on the fact that there was no Lucifer doll.) 

Gabriel's brows scrunched together. “We didn't know you in Heaven.”

“Yes, you did. You met me once. I used to make the insects. You came to oversee my work and criticized me. I told you that if you thought that you could do better, you could do it yourself. You made the...what was it?”

“The Brazilian Tree Hopper.” Not his finest creation, apparently, as the general consensus among the angels had been that he ought to stick to his day job. He could almost remember Beelzebub now. Her hair had been longer and her eyes softer, somehow. She'd been a lesser angel, but he did recall her. He rembered her as an angel who had been surrounded always with a halo of butterflies. Beauty and grace incarnate. What had been her name... 

“Terribly ugly bastard,” Beelzebub interrupted his remembrances. 

“I thought it was rather comely,” Gabriel defended the poor little creature he'd created. 

“It was fucking weird.”

Gabriel frowned, he never would understand why everyone disliked his creations so. “What about the dolls? Are they a nice present?” Gabriel was unsure. He didn't like to be unsure, it felt wrong. He was the Archangel Fucking Gabriel, he was supposed to know things and know them for certain. That was his entire gig, really. 

Beelzebub couldn't bring herself to say anything nice to Gabriel, she just couldn't. She'd probably discorporate. But she also couldn't find it in her to say anything truly bad either.... So she settled on annoying, yet somewhat helpful. 

She tapped the Crowley doll with her nail. “He'll want one of his stupid angel, too.”

Gabriel's face betrayed a hint of distaste. “Aziraphale?”

“Yes, you know the angel he betrayed Hell for? That one? Ring any bells?”

Beelzebub, he realized, was probably right. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud. (Though he was, deep down, a bit grateful for the advice. He wanted his Raphie to enjoy his present. If he enjoyed it more with Gabriel rather grudgingly miracling up an Aziraphale doll, so be it. And if it was rather plumper than the actual angel, well.... That was simply artistic license, wasn't it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The darkness grows, the year ends, and it is not sad but a reminder that all is fleeting.  
❄Happy Solstice everyone.❄


	174. Chapter 174

Crowley eyed all the stuffed animals carefully. Obviously, only the best would do for his human. He carefully retrieved a big, fluffy bat, which he thought would be Goth-appropriate. He held it out to Eddie and carefully watched the human's expression. There was a sort of hesitant longing in his eyes and Crowley shook the bat in an encouragement for Eddie to take it. (He purposely didn't think about how the twins had done something similar for him.) 

Eddie slowly took the plush, then clutched it close to his chest. Crowley, tapping into his primal hunting instincts, (generally used on mice, or the occasional rabbit, but perfectly suitable for animals of the plush variety as well) turned back to the shelves of stuffies. He picked out a soft raven with beady, little eyes and a skeleton unicorn. 

He made certain that Eddie liked every plushie he was presented with. Because it was serious business, plushies. And Eddie didn't have any; and Crowley rather suspected he never had any, or had very few. So the ones he was going to have now were going to be special. Obviously. 

Eddie tapped the demon's shoulder. “Can...I mean...I, uhhhh...like pandas....”

And Eddie's eyes drifted over to a large panda plushie. 

“Of course!” Crowley almost, but not quite, shouted in Eddie's face. 

“You, ummmm...don't have to get me the big one.”

Of course, Eddie would have the big panda if he wanted one. He could have a real panda if he wanted. (Though maybe not; Aziraphale probably wouldn't like it, a panda might nibble on some of his precious books.) Crowley was a cold, unfeeling demon and he rarely cared about anything, (this was a lie) but when he did care about something (Aziraphale, the Bentley, Aziraphale, the world not ending, Aziraphale, saving small children from genocidal floods, Aziraphale, the mirror wraiths, Aziraphale) he tended to really, really care about it. And somehow, when he wasn't looking, he had come to care about Eddie. So Eddie would have a panda, and anything else he wanted. 

With a bit of coaxing, Eddie picked out a black and white Gloomy Bear, then asked several times whether or not it was too much. Which, of course, it wasn't. Crowley was going to take care of his human, and he was more than certain that the mirror wraiths would agree. 

He was just telling Eddie as much when the twins came trotting back, both laden down with packages. “Eddie!”

“Eddie!”

“Eddie!”

“We found you the cute dollies from your movies!”

The cute dollies from Eddie's movies turned out to be Chucky and Annabelle. Because of course the twins would consider those cute dollies. Along with several different sets of Universal Monsters action figures and playsets. 

Eddie looked as if he was about to cry. 

The twins set the toys gently down on the floor and rushed over to hug Eddie. “What's wrong Eddie?”

“Do you not like the toys?”

“We can get different ones!”

“Don't cry Eddie!”

“No,” Eddie told the twins, burying his face in their curly hair. “They're, they're perfect. I just...I'm really happy.” Happy wasn't quite the right word. Crowley, and the twins and, Eddie was almost certain, the rest of the mirror wraiths as well, had given him things. Not because it was a holiday or his birthday and they felt obligated to, not for any ulterior motives or as a way to manipulate him, but just because they thought he should have them because they would make him happy. And they were things that he actually liked. They had listened to him and cared enough about him to know what he liked. 

Crowley looked to the twins. “We should find Jack. Then find my angel and the others. I think Eddie needs a nap.”

“I don't,” said Eddie, though he really wouldn't mind one. 

“You doooo,” said Crowley. 

And this time Eddie just nodded into the twins’ hair.


	175. Chapter 175

Eddie tugged on Aziraphale’s sleeve, then jumped back a little when the angel turned to face him. 

This was the prefect time to present his idea? Suggestion? to Aziraphale. Crowley and the twins had been ushered off to the bathrooms for diaper changes with Jack and Helena. Eddie was a little wet, but couldn't bear to admit it out loud. So he stayed with Gregor and the angel. Unfortunately, out of all of the new, supernatural friends that Eddie had made, these two intimidated him the most. Especially Aziraphale. 

Eddie shifted from foot to foot. He bit his lip, worrying one of his piercings between his teeth. “I, uhhhh...I thought that maybe Crowley would like his crib better if, ummmm...he had some, like, toys and blankies and things in it? Maybe, like, a mobile that lights up...or, you know, what ever you think is best?”

Aziraphale clasped his chubby hands together. “Oh, that's a wonderful idea, my dear boy! Would you like to help me pick out some things?”

Eddie nodded. Of course he wanted to get things for Crowley. After all, Crowley had just picked out loads of nice things for Eddie, and Crowley deserved to have said nice things way more than Eddie did. 

So off they went to the crib furnishing aisle. Aziraphale and Gregor looked at mobiles and crib toys, while Eddie was tasked with picking out bedding. His eyes lingered for a while over the weighted blankets. But he turned away; he was looking for Crowley, not himself. 

He picked out a very, very dark blue comforter with silvery stars and real mapped constellations scattered across it. Eddie hoped it was accurate, because Crowley was apparently formerly an angel named Raphael who had made the stars. Made them. Brought them into existence out of nothing. It...honestly kind of hurt Eddie's head. Though Aziraphale had once informed him that, as he wasn't running through the streets screaming or trying to found a new religion, he was doing well. 

Eddie supposed the most important information in there was that Crowley liked stars. What did it matter what the demon had done thousands? Millions? of years ago? Crowley was his friend and he'd been really nice to Eddie. Especially taking into consideration that he had technically helped to kidnap the demon. The point was, Crowley was really awesome and cute and everyone loved him and he deserved nice things, even if he was technically a demon and condemned to eternal damnation or whatever. (Eddie wasn't clear on the technicalities.) 

So he picked out a matching sheet set to go with the comforter. And an adorable little, silvery, smiling star pillow. Then he spied that they had crib bumpers to go with set, too, so obviously he had to get those. Then Eddie worried he had picked out to much. But...it was for Crowley, and Eddie was pretty certain that there was nothing that Aziraphale would not give his baby demon. 

Eddie spared one last, longing look at the weighted blankets. There was a nice black and white checkered one he particularly fancied, but it was over a hundred pounds and Eddie couldn't, and wouldn't, ask anyone to spend that kind of money on him. Especially after all the other things that everyone had gotten him already. 

Eddie presented his picks to Aziraphale, slightly nervous. 

“Oh, they're wonderful, darling! Crowley will love it! But, dear boy, didn't you get your blanket?” 

Eddie blushed; no one was supposed to see him looking. “It's, uhhhh...way too expensive.”

“Nonsense,” came the rumbling voice of Gregor from behind Aziraphale. “We have money. Certainly more than enough for whatever blanket you wish.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn't spend it all on me. I'm definitely not worth it.”

“Nonsense, there will be more money. We have very little use for it in general, and it has the unhappy habit of appearing between our sofa cushions. If we can spend a little of it to make you happy, then I, and I'm certain the others would agree, consider it well spent.”

“And besides, dear boy,” Aziraphale chimed in, “you deserve it for being such a good big brother to Crowley and the twins.”

Eddie slowly walked over to the weighted blankets; big brother. He liked that. He could be Big enough to look after Crowley and the twins, but maybe Little enough to get a bit of looking after himself.

Big Brother; it felt like a place he might be able to fit in, in this weird little family. As Eddie placed his new blanket in the cart, he gave Aziraphale and Gregor a small, but genuine, smile. And they both beamed back at him, and for once Eddie felt...sort of alright.


	176. Chapter 176

Aziraphale was slightly concerned. Helena had just asked for a feather, both from him and Crowley. It was something that one really wasn't supposed to do, giving away bits of a celestial corporation. In fact, it had been the first thing they had told him when he had been stationed on Earth. It was why their corporations weren't left lying about if an angel was discorporated. It wouldn't be good at all if some nosy humans went poking at it. They might learn things they weren't supposed to. Not to mention that, as bits of living things were often used in spell work, it was far too much of a liability to have angel (or demon) corporeal forms lying about. Imagine the strength of the spells one could cast with bits of an angel. Why, it would be absolute chaos! 

But this was different; Helena was...well, Helena. She had proved herself to be a true and loyal friend to them both. She had also given her reason for wanting their feathers, as she was deciding a way to protect the bookshop from unwanted intruders (Gabriel) without either of them having to preform a miracle, or depend on the mirror wraiths; and Aziraphale was more than willing to take a risk where the safety of his Little demon was concerned. 

Aziraphale cuddled said demon tighter to him. Crowley nuzzled his neck and patted a chubby cheek. “‘Sss alright, angel, Helena won't do anything bad. Well...not to ussss.”

“You’re right, of course, darling. I'll stop worrying.” Aziraphale gently kissed the top of Crowley's head. But both Aziraphale and Crowley knew that Aziraphale wouldn't stop worrying. 

They sat in silence for a while, until Helena came in, followed by the twins and Eddie, and deposited suspicious, black goop in every corner of the room. The odd substance seemed to seep into wherever it was placed, leaving no trace of it's presence behind. 

“Ah, I do hate to be a bother, my dears, but whatever are you doing?” (Aziraphale hoped very much that not a drop of the mystery substance had landed on his beloved books.) 

The twins looked at the angel as if he was a little dull. “Smearing the black stuff on the walls,” one of them said. 

“Well...yes, I do see that, dear one. I think rather what I meant to say is, why are you smearing the, errrr...black stuff on the walls?”

“It's something from our dimension,” explained Helena, “rather useful for both binding and repelling. Getting it was somewhat more difficult than I had anticipated.”

Crowley lifted his head up. “Is this what made you so tired?”

Helena smiled at Crowley. “Very clever, sweetheart, yes it was.”

“So how does it work?” Azirphale questioned. 

“Well, if it's been done as we hoped, then it will seep into the building and create a sort of intangible web around the bookshop, to which you, the demon Crowley, and you, the angel Azirphale, will be connected to.”

“Ahhhh, so that's why you needed our feathers?”

“Yes, blood is more traditional, but I consulted with Anathema, and we thought that since you are less conncted to your physical forms than most, something closer to your true forms would be more effective.”

“Sssso,” asked Crowley, “how do we make it work?”

“You should begin to feel some sort of connection with the bookshop soon. And from there it should only be a matter of willing someone away whom you don't wish to be there. Much like performing one of your miracles, I imagine.”

“Oh, thank you, Helena. And thank you twins and Eddie! You don't know what it means to be able to protect the bookshop and Crowley so.” (It would, Aziraphale thought, with a certain amount of semi-wicked glee, also be quite useful for removing pesky book-buying customers from the shop.) 

Helena smiled wryly. “Thank us if it works.”

Jack knocked on the doorframe as he was entering (which rather rendered the knocking pointless.) He jerked his thumb towards the direction he just came. “That purple-eyed fellow, and his friend with the bee, are outside again.”

“Would you happen to mean a fly?” queried Aziraphale. Though, bee or fly, he knew without a doubt who it was.


	177. Chapter 177

Angels, Beelzebub thought, were supposed to be able to sing. Apparently, no one had informed Gabriel of that. He had a nice voice, sure, but he had managed to hit all the wrong notes of “Come All Ye Faithful” with it. 

Beelzebub had kicked him twice, but the Archangel was in such a good mood that it had only deterred him momentarily. So she had resorted to making conversation in order to get him to cease his infernal caterwauling. “So, weren't you the one to tell Mary she was knocked up with God's bastard kid?” 

“The Holy Child, yes, I was. I told her how honored she should be, and then I showed her spreadsheets. Meticulously detailed spreadsheets. She was very impressed. Speechless, in fact.”

“I'm sure she was,” replied Beelzebub dryly. 

The tallest mirror wraith (Beelzebub couldn't be bothered to learn their names) opened the door for them. “Crowley and Aziraphale say you can come in.”

“Of course they did.” After all, thought Gabriel, last time had gone so well; Little Raphie would probably be overjoyed to see him. 

Gabriel pushed past the mirror wraith. And headed towards the back bit of the shop where he would find a sofa, an angel on that sofa, and a demon on that angel. 

Gabriel gave his best, shiniest, whitest smile for Raphie. “I come bearing gifts.” And he held up the shiny, silver, wrapped package with a purple bow.

Crowley looked at it curiously, and Azirphale looked at it suspiciously. A familiar and unpleasant feeling of jealousy rising up in the angel's chest and burning his throat. He would keep his own council for Crowley's sake, but bugger it all if he didn't just want Gabriel to go away! 

The angel blinked. Then blinked again. The spot where the Archangel had been standing was empty. 

Beelzebub situated herself in a chair opposite the sofa. “Neat trick. Care to show me how to do it?” She sipped a glass of wine that hadn't been in her hand a second ago. “I've been wanting to make him disappear for ages.”


	178. Chapter 178

Gabriel had just been going to give his beautifully (if he did say so himself, which he did) wrapped Christmas gift to baby Raphie, and now he was lying in the middle of a London street being yelled at, and having automobile horns honked at him by annoying, impetuous humans.

In between the now and the then, there had been a pressing darkness and a great deal of screaming. It had felt a bit like being thrown in a vat of slime, then spit out the other side. Gabriel got up and shook imaginary goo off himself. He miracled up a nice, crisp, new turtleneck; though there was nothing visably wrong with his old one, he still felt dirty. 

He made his way back to the bookshop where the pudgy angel stood in the door to the shop, redheaded Little on his hip. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I am sorry about that. It was unintentional, I assure you.” Though the angel did not sound particularly sorry at all. 

“How did you do that?” Gabriel demanded. “You're a Pricipality. You should definitely not be able to banish me. I'm an Archangel, after all.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer, though he wasn't exactly certain what to say, but Crowley beat him to it. “Is my present alright?”

Gabriel postponed the inquisition he had intended to give Aziraphale to smile at Raphael. With a small miracle the box appeared in his hand, as pristine as ever. 

Crowley made grabby hands at the box, but Aziraphale patted his back and said, “Inside, dear,” and stepped aside (somewhat grudgingly) to let the Archangel in. 

Gabriel made himself at home on the sofa, much to Aziraphale’s chagrin. Crowley scurried up on the sofa next to Gabriel to peer at the shiny box. The twins situated themselves close to Crowley in order to watch the unwrapping, and see what fun new toy their friend had received. Eddie hung back to watch from a safe distance. Gabriel frightened him. Though he wasn't certain if Gabriel frightened him more or less than Aziraphale did. 

Gabriel proudly presented Baby Raphie with the box. Which the demon wasted no time ripping into. He took out each doll gingerly. The Aziraphale, of course, was his favorite, but he, surprisingly, loved the Gabriel as well. The doll was the Gabriel Crowley could just remember from Heaven. The kind one. The one who hadn't wanted the world to end. The one who hadn't sentenced Aziraphale to Hellfire with a smile. 

One of the twins picked up the Crowley doll. “Your eyes are different. And your wings are black, not white.”

“It'ssss how I used to look. In Heaven.” Though Crowley didn't sound too pleased about it. 

“Maybe you can change the wings and the eyes. We have a dolly whose eyes change all the time.”

“Yeah, sometimes they glow a pretty red.”

“And we have another doll that has hair that grows. Maybe your dolly can change to look more like you?”

Crowley slowly took the Raphael doll and examined it. 

“Try tapping the head three times,” Gabriel said, while preforming a covert miracle. 

Crowley did, and the doll's eyes turned into snake's eyes and it's wings became a rather nice shade black. Crowley liked his doll much better this way. He still liked it less than the Aziraphale, or even the Gabriel dolls, but now it was more of an accurate reflection of what he was now, rather than a painful reminder of who he used to be. 

Crowley cradled the Aziraphale doll close to his chest, the other two in his lap, and looked to Gabriel. “Thank you.”

Gabriel smiled at him. Not the flashy smile he usually used, but a small, sincere one. He hadn't particularly wanted to make Crowley's doll reflect the demon features that Raphael had unfairly acquired. But...it made Raphie happy. And Gabriel found he wanted to see Raphie happy, even if it wasn't exactly what Gabriel himself would choose. (And was this right? Was this how caring for another creature was supposed to go? Gabriel wasn't certain. He'd have to ask Beelzebub later.) 

Crowley leaned over, the Aziraphale doll still clutched tightly in his hands, and hugged Gabriel. 

It was an extremely short hug, and Crowley pulled away as if he'd been burnt, but it made Gabriel feel oddly warm and nice all the same.


	179. Chapter 179

Crowley and the twins were off playing with Crowley's new dolls (encouraged by Gabriel, who hadn't quite realized that by encouraging the Little to play with his present, it would leave him with naught but Aziraphale and Beelzebub for company). This left Gabriel and Aziraphale to glare at each other, and Helena and Beelzebub to sip wine and watch the two angels glare at each other. 

Gabriel thought that as Aziraphale's superior in every way, it was up to him to be the bigger angel and break the silence. “So,” Gabriel began, “how'd you end up as Raphie's Caregiver? Certainly there were far more qualified and higher ranking Caretakers in Heaven.”

For a second, Aziraphale looked rather offended, but that was soon replaced by curiosity and confusion. “Gabriel,” Aziraphale said slowly, “You...you do know that Crowley didn't have a Caregiver in Heaven?”

“Of course he did!” Really, what was Aziraphale on about now? “All Littles in Heaven had Caregivers, Aziraphale. Littles need to be taken care of, so God made Caregivers. Perfect system.”

Aziraphale was looking at Gabriel with something akin to pity now, and Gabriel most certainly did not like it. 

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale said softly, “did Crowley, errr...Raphael, ever mention a Caregiver to you?”

Gabriel's eyebrows furrowed. “Well...no.”

“Did you ever see him with anyone that might be a Caregiver?”

“Baby Raphie was always alone when I saw him, or with me and Lucifer.”

“And no one every brought up any concerns about Crow...Raphael to you?”

“Lucifer did. But Lucifer was always wrong about everything.... Wasn't he?”

“I think that you may need to ask Crowley yourself.”

In a few longs strides Gabriel crossed the room to where the Littles were playing, and scooped up a surprised Crowley. This action resulted in much flailing of limbs (and, Aziraphale suspected, a rather wet diaper). 

Gabriel went back over to the sofa and sat the confused demon in his lap, facing him. “Raphie, I need you to tell me something.”

Crowley narrowed his snakey eyes suspiciously at the Archangel, and flicked out his tongue. “What?”

“Did you have a Caregiver in Heaven?”

Crowley looked rather irritated. “No, and you know that!”

Gabriel looked like he'd just been struck by lightning, or had a rabid raccoon thrown at him, or something else equally shocking had befallen him. 

Wide, purple eyes stared at Crowley without really seeing him. “No,” said Gabriel faintly. “No, I didn't.”


	180. Chapter 180

Gabriel laid on Beelzebub’s sofa, much to her annoyance. He had finished every scrap of paperwork that he had, then offered to do some of the other Archangel's as well. Michael had responded to this by sending him to his quarters, obviously annoyed. 

But, without the distraction of piles of paperwork, thoughts and memories kept creeping into Gabriel's brain, and they most certainly did not have his permission to be there. They were, of course, of baby Raphie - the unhappy subject that had plagued him for days now. 

The entire trouble was that it made sense, looking back. How sad and alone Raphie had always seemed. How he never spoke of a Caregiver. How he was always following around either Luci or himself. How Luci had once outright said, “I don't think that Baby Raphie has a Caregiver and maybe we should do something about that.”

How did he not see it? How did God not see it? Baby Raphie was one of God's most favored children. Why didn't She make certain he was cared for? Baby Raphie was so...so...small...and needy. He sucked his thumb and needed lots of attention. And now that his corporation had becomed accustomed to it, he needed bottle feedings and sleep and diapers and probably other human baby things Gabriel didn't know about, as well. How long had baby Raphie gone without any of these things? And why? For what purpose did God not intervene? If no angel existed in Heaven that was suitable or, willing, to care for baby Raphie, (though Gabriel couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't want baby Raphie, as baby Raphie was without a doubt the best Little ever created) certainty She could have made one. 

And since there was obviously no one in Heaven that Gabriel could voice these thoughts to, Gabriel was sprawled across Beelzebub’s sofa. (Much to said demon's irritation. This was become a regular thing. Why, Satan, was this becoming a regular thing?) 

Beelzebub leaned back in her chair and stared at one of the many cracks in the ceiling. She let out a long suffering sigh. “You are aware that these sortzzz of questionzzz are the reason half of us are in Hell.”

Gabriel sat up and glared. “I am not questioning God! I'm just...wondering why baby Raphie was...alone...and probably frightened, for so long in Heaven. I mean, after all, Heaven is supposed to be a place were all things are well.... So why wasn't it so for Raphie?” 

Gabriel was now looking at Beelzebub pleadingly, as if she had some kind of answer for him. Which was nauseating and pathetic and made her want to drop kick him into the nearest sulfur pit. 

“Why don't you ask your God?”

Gabriel flopped back down on the sofa. “God doesn't answer. She hasn't answered in a very long time.”

“Part of the ineffable plan?”

“Obviously,” replied Gabriel, because what other explanation could there be? 

Beelzub snorted. “Then ask Lucifer, surely that was one of the quezzztions he asked God.”

Gabriel sat up again. That.... That idea had merit. God, being the reasonable deity She was, had probably explained to Lucifer the extremely reasonable reason why she saw fit to leave Little baby Raphie alone and uncared for more time than Gabriel cared to think about. He would just ask Lucifer, and then he would know, and he could be safe once again in the knowledge that he was right, and God was good; baby Raphie hadn't suffered needlessly. 

He didn't ever bother to say goodbye to Beelzebub (who could not have cared less, even thought it was terribly rude of the feathery prick) as he miracled his way back to Heaven. 

He sat down at his desk and began to type. 

Dear Lucifer, current arch nemesis and former friend, Great Beast and Destroyer of all that is Good and Holy, 

I am writing to ask.....


	181. Chapter 181

Eddie was relaxed. He couldn't ever remember waking up feeling relaxed before; it was nice. He was snuggled up with his plushies and Jack, his weighted blanket tucked around him;it was perfect, except for one small thing. Eddie's diaper was wet, and he hadn't done it on purpose. 

He had gone to sleep in a dry diaper and woken up in a wet one. This left only one conclusion.... Eddie had wet the bed. 

It wasn't the first time it had happened. Being relaxed and in diapers, as well as getting constantly given bottles and sippy cups, seemed to be bringing out the small, bed-and-pants-wetting child Eddie had been. And that absolutely petrified him. 

As nice as being a spoilt and induldged diapered baby was, it obviously wasn't going to last forever. Jack was the one to change Eddie's diapers, and give him bottles and cuddles. Jack was the one who wore diapers so that Eddie would feel more comfortable. But Jack was rather...flighty, was the nicest word Eddie could think of. He never pursued anything for any length of time. He flitted from one experiment to another, trying every new thing that caught his fancy. Eddie knew that eventually Jack would grow bored of babying Eddie, the way he grew bored of everything else. 

While Eddie was almost certain that he would still be allowed to be Little, he would most definitely have to be older, and out of diapers. Eddie didn't mind Jack changing him too much, because it seemed to be a novel new game for Jack, but Eddie certainly wasn't going to burden anyone else with changing his diapers. (Also, the thought of Gregor, or Helena, or Someone forbid, Aziraphale, changing him made Eddie quite literally pee himself. Though Helena scared him less than the other two, it really wasn't fair to ask her when she'd already done so much for him.) 

So obviously, Eddie's new bout of bed wetting couldn't be allowed to continue. It wouldn't, Eddie lied to himself, be so bad. He would still get to play with Crowley and the twins, and suck his paci, and get head scritches from Helena. Maybe even get the occasional cuddle from Jack, if the mirror wraith wasn't too busy with whatever caught his interest next. Eddie just wouldn't be able to enjoy the comforting feeling of a warm, wet diaper and the knowledge that there was someone to lovingly change him. Eddie would be fine. If he really wanted diapers sometime he could just wear pull-ups and change himself. It would be almost the same. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and snuggled into Jack's somewhat bony embrace. He released his bladder into his already damp padding, vowing that it would be the last time. Better to end this on his terms than have it ripped away from him, and Jack was bound to grow bored soon. 

Eddie would just go back to doing what he had done for years, drinking very little and making certain he went to the bathroom before bed. Eddie scrunched up his nose in irritation, he wasn't looking forward to the return of the constant dryness of his mouth and throat. But he wouldn't think about that now. 

He squeezed Jack tighter, trying to burn every last detail of this moment into his memory.


	182. Chapter 182

There was something wrong with Eddie. 

Eddie and Crowley had been lying on the floor, listening to Crowley's record collection, (as well as Crowley's commentary and fond reminiscings on said record collection) when Crowley came to the realization that he hadn't heard Eddie say anything besides, “uh-huh,” for the past half-hour. 

Crowley carefully placed the record he was holding into it's protective sleeve and looked up at Eddie. The human was hunched up around his plush bat, sitting with his forehead on his knees and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. It was a position that Crowley himself had been in many times. Obviously, Eddie was worried about something. And even more obviously, Crowley was going to fix it, because, after all, he was very experienced in the field of worry, with a degree in self-hatred. He would know the right things to make his little human friend feel better. 

Crowley tapped Eddie's head. 

He looked up at the demon. “Oh, sorry, Crowley.”

Crowley wriggled his way into Eddie's lap and sat with his head on Eddie's shoulder. Sometimes Crowley knew it was easier to talk to people when they weren't looking at you. “What's wrong, Eddie? And don't,” Crowley said firmly, “say it'ssss nothing.” 

Eddie sighed deeply. “It's just that, well...this has been nice, being really Little, but, uh, yeah, nothing can last forever, you know?”

No, in fact, Crowley did not know. But, he thought that Eddie might be worried he was going to get kicked out. So Crowley hugged Eddie tightly and asked, “You're not talking about leaving, are you? Because no one wants you to leave. You're my human now, and you have to stay with me forever.”

“Forever?”

Crowley nodded, “Forever. And if you try to leave, I'll lock you in the basement.”

“Does this place even have a basement?”

Crowley looked at Eddie very seriously. “I'll make one.”

Eddie smiled, “I didn't mean leaving, though. I don't want to leave.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“Well, I mean, I probably shouldn't always be as Little as I am now, right?”

Crowley looked at him curiously. 

Eddie continued nervously. “I mean, like, the diapers, I should probably stop wearing them...right?”

Crowley was somewhat confused (which wasn't a new experience for him at all); he had thought that Eddie liked his diapers and being Little. Did he like them less now? Did he want to be Bigger? Something clicked in Crowley's head with an almost audible sound. Eddie wanted to be a Bigger Little and he was afraid that Crowley and the others wouldn't like it! 

Come to think of it, Crowley didn't actually like it. He liked Eddie as he was, Big enough to be his big brother, but small enough to not be bossy and still fun to play with. Crowley hadn't even gotten to change Eddie's diaper yet, or laughed as the twins attempted to change his diaper. But Crowley was going to be the very best friend to his human, and make certain that Eddie knew what he wanted was totaly fine, so Crowley smiled and nodded. 

“That's soundssss like a great idea, Eddie. Be a Big Little. We'll all love you.... So long as you don't get bossy and still play with us.”

Eddie smiled (it had a touch of sadness about it, but Crowley didn't notice). “Of course I'll still play with you, and I promise not to be bossy.”

Eddie hugged Crowley close to him. 

The demon felt rather satisfied with himself. He had figured out what Eddie was worried about and reassured him. He was (if he did say so himself) a very good friend. His angel would be so very proud of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year 💕


	183. Chapter 183

Jack hadn't know that he wanted an Eddie until he got one. While Jack, of course, loved the twins to bits, they would always be, first and foremost, Helena's Littles. But, Eddie...Eddie favored Jack. It was Jack who made Eddie comfortable enough to wear and wet his diapers. It was Jack, and Jack alone, who was allowed to change Eddie's diapers and feed him bottles. And Jack reveled in it. 

It would take a bit of time, Jack knew, (though patience had never been Jack's strong suit) but he and his little Eddie would be inseparable. Eddie would slowly get more comfortable with the others, but Jack would always be the one that Eddie went to first and foremost. 

Though, Eddie's behaviour the past couple of days had been a bit...odd. He had been refusing diapers changes, and bottles, and cuddles with a very polite, “no thank you.” 

Gregor had thought that maybe Eddie was exploring his new role and deciding what aspects of it that he liked or didn't. His advice was to respect whatever Eddie wanted, but watch him closely and keep offering things to him so that Eddie would always know they were available to him. 

It was sound and reasonable advice, and Jack took it, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. 

Especially when Eddie wouldnt take his bottle that night. Eddie hadn't wanted his sippy cup all day either, and Jack wasn’t certain he had peed either; and if he had it certainly wasn't in his diaper. 

Eddie didn't cuddle up to him either when they both crawled into bed at night, and Jack did not like that one bit. He stared longingly at Eddie's back, then rolled over and huffed. 

Maybe Eddie didn't want cuddles tonight, but he did. He slipped out of bed and padded out to look for Gregor. 

He found him in the bookshop, reading something that no doubt had the power to bore a lesser creature (such as Jack) to death within a few paragraphs. Jack plopped down in Gregor’s lap and laid his head on Gregor's shoulder. 

“Is it usual for a human to not drink or pee? Is that part of exploring being a Little?”

Gregor looked up from his book. “No, that's not usual at all. Humans need to drink or they become dehydrated.”

“What happens if they get dehydrated?”

“They become ill, and if it persists and they do not drink, they will die.”

Jack sat up, alarmed. “Die?”

(Jack, it should be noted, as a mirror wraith who was incapable of dying in the most technical sense, did not have a particularly strong grasp on the concept of death. He did, however, understand that if Eddie died it would mean he would no longer be in any place that Jack could go. And since he had not yet perfected the art of bringing back the dead (or even made any progress whatsoever) obviously Eddie couldn't be allowed to die. 

“Well, yes, but it takes quite a long....”

Jack didn't bother listening to the rest. How could he when baby Eddie was dying? He propelled himself off of Gregor's lap and bolted back to the bedroom. He would fix this. He had to, and if he couldn't then surely, surely, Helena could. He couldn't let his baby die, not when he hadn't got to do half of the things he had wanted to do with him. He hadn't gotten to feed him his dinner, or show him all the best places he went to find dead things, or give him a bath. 

Jack hurriedly wrapped up a still sleeping Eddie in blankets and picked him up, holding him close; then like a man possessed, (not, of course, literally, demon possession was far less of thing than horror films would have you think) Jack sprinted out of the room.


	184. Chapter 184

Jack had, in the past few minutes, cultivated the idea that humans were essentially Betsy Wetsy dolls with a few more squishy bits on the inside. They drank, they wet, and they had to keep drinking for the squishy bits to keep working. (This belief, while not entirely accurate, was also, surprisingly, not entirely inaccurate.) 

Eddie had stopped drinking, so his organs were probably drying out or something, and Eddie would die. So Jack scurried around the kitchen, still holding Eddie, to prepare a bottle. Eddie, being a rather heavy sleeper did not wake up until the nipple was in his mouth. Reflexively, Eddie began to suck. 

It was a few moments before his sleepy brain realized what exactly it was that he was doing. As much as he really wanted to have a nice warm bottle, he equally didn't want to wet the bed. And Eddie definitely would wet the bed if he drank anything now because he was going back to sleep. Right now, if he had anything to say about it. Eddie lay his head back on Jack's shoulder and closed his eyes. 

The nipple was again brought to Eddie's mouth, but he turned his head to hide from it in the curve of Jack's neck. 

Jack let out a sound that was strange and high-pitched and urgent, but Eddie was far too close to sleep to notice. 

Jack was moving again and Eddie wished he'd just stay still, it was much easier to sleep that way. Then he felt the now familiar sensation of passing through a mirror, and spared a sleepy thought to wonder why exactly they were going to the mirror realm.


	185. Chapter 185

It didn't take much time to find Helena, who had fallen asleep over the large black scrying mirror she kept on the kitchen table. 

Jack shook her shoulder furiously. “Wake up,” he hissed. “Wake up! Eddie's dying!” As Jack spoke, he progressively became louder and his voice rose to a pitch most easily heard by dogs. 

Helena awoke and, after a few moments to process what had just been shouted at her, wasted no time in examining Eddie, who was by now awake and very, very confused. 

Eddie's lips were slightly dry, but he didn't look ill. His eyes weren't sunken, and he wasn't sweating or shaking. She leaned close and placed a kiss on the human's forehead. He wasn't warm or feverish either. 

She stepped back and looked at Jack with a raised eyebrow. “He isn't dying. Well,” she amended, “no more than any other living creature entwined with their flesh and blood is.”

“But he won't drink!” Jack's voice was somewhere between a cry and a whine, and normally it would annoy Helena slightly, but she could hear Jack's concern and desperation. 

“Have you asked him why?” Helena queried, now looking at Eddie, who was beginning to blush. 

“Errr...no.”

She brushed some of Eddie's fringe out of his face. “Why don't you want to drink, sweetie? Do you not feel well?”

Eddie shook his head and brought up his raven stuffie to hide his face. Which, although adorable, was not helpful in the least. 

Helena gestured for Jack to carry the Little to the sofa and sit down. She sat next to them and reached out to scritch Eddie's head. “Sweetheart, I need you to tell me why you don't want to drink. Whatever it is, we won't be mad at you. Right, Jack?”

Jack clutched Eddie tighter. “Of course!” he said, sounding slightly offended that she would ever think otherwise. 

It was a long strech of silence before Eddie finally mumbled something from behind his plushies, though it was incomprehensible. 

“What was that, sweetie?” she asked, still running her nails lightly against Eddie's scalp. 

“I don't want to pee the bed.”

“What does that matter, dear? You're wearing a diaper.”

Eddie didn't answer, but sort of hunkered down into his blanket. 

Jack huffed and lifted the blanket, trying to find some bit of the human to look at that wasn't his hair. “It's a good sign that you're wetting the bed, baby! It means you're settling into your Littlespace!”

“I shouldn't be so Little, though! What if I can't stop wetting the bed or my diapers when I need to?” Eddie cried. 

Jack looked puzzled. “Why would you need to?”

“Because you're going to get bored of me,” Eddie said softly.


	186. Chapter 186

It took some coaxing, but eventually Helena and Jack (mostly Helena) got Eddie to explain his observation of Jack's flighly tendencies, and his conclusion that he was just one of Jack's many fleeting projects and interests. It was, Eddie informed Jack, alright, and he was grateful that Jack had taken care of him for the time he had, but, well, he should start becoming a little less dependent on him, shouldn't he? For the inevitable loss of interest to come. 

Jack had thought the term heartbreak had been a silly human over exaggeration; even he, with his somewhat questionable grasp of human anatomy and it's functions, knew that a heart couldn't really break. It could stop beating or get a hole in it, sure, but it couldn't break. Apparently the term heartbreak, discovered Jack, had nothing to do with the actual organ. It was, instead, a terrible sort of wrenching much nearer to his gut than his heart, coupled with a very strong desire to make everything he possibly could better for Eddie. He squeezed the human tighter to him. 

“Oh, sweetie,” breathed Helena, and she couldn't help but be reminded of a certain Little demon. It was no wonder Eddie and Crowley were such good friends; after all, they thought the exact same way, at least where anything having to do with being taken care of was concerned. “You do know that even if Jack didn't want to care for you, which I don't think shall ever happen, we would take care of you. Gregor, the twins and I.”

“You shouldn't have to, and I...I want Jack.”

Any irritation that Jack felt over being called flighty disappeared. “I want to. You're my baby now. I'm not going to get bored. Well...I'll probably get bored, but not of you. I mean, I haven't gotten bored of Helena, or Gregor, or Edgar, or Ellen, and,” here Jack leaned in to mock whisper into Eddie's ear, “Helena and Gregor are really boring.”

Helena smacked Jack's arm and Eddie managed to smile a little. 

“Look, baby, if I do get bored I won't abandon you; you'll just help me with my new projects!”

“If you want to,” Helena interjected. “And if you don't, you can be with Gregor, the twins, and I until Jack comes back to you, and he will come back to you.”

“Of course,” said Jack, nodding vigorously. 

“I wanna help Jack,” Eddie said, his face still firmly pressed into his plushie. Eddie had done much worse when he worked for Nathaniel. He could handle electrocuting dead frogs or whatever abominations against man and nature Jack wanted to do that day. 

“Now, sweetheart,” Helena scratched the nice place at the nape of Eddie's neck, “I need you to answer a question for me. Can you do that?”

Eddie wanted to say no. He wanted to go back to sleep. But instead he nodded, because he had been a lot of trouble that night and had upset Jack, and it was just what he felt would make both Jack and Helena happy. 

“Ohhhh, very good sweetie,” Helena scratched the nice place again, which made Eddie feel, more than anything else, that he had made the right decision. “Now, do you like bottles, or would you prefer to use only sippy cups?” 

“Uhhh...I like bottles.” This was, Eddie thought, both the truthful answer and the one that Jack and Helena wanted; what with Jack's instance on bottle feeding him earlier that night. 

Helena smiled at him. “You are doing so well, darling. Just one more, and then you can go to sleep.”

Eddie nodded again, one more question, he could stand one more question. Probably. 

“Do you want to wear diapers?”

And no, Eddie took back what he'd said earlier. He couldn't stand another question. He wanted to go to bed right now, please and thank you.

He looked, wide-eyed and frantic, from Jack to Helena. Searching for anything in their faces that might tell him what the right thing to say was. 

Helena brought her hands up to cup Eddie's face. “Sweetie, sweetie, it's alright. How about this? Would you like someone else to choose for you? Would you like Jack to choose?”

Eddie nodded furiously. That was exactly what he wanted. For someone to take this decision away from him so he wouldn't make the wrong choice. 

“Remember, you can always tell us what you prefer. No one will be mad.”

Eddie nodded again, and felt secure in the knowledge that he had a say, even when he was handing his choice to someone else. 

Helena and Eddie both looked to Jack expectantly. 

Jack, wide-eyed, stared back at them.


	187. Chapter 187

Jack was never much of a thinker. He preferred to leave philosophy and deciding what was for dinner to dull people, like Gregor and Helena. He was always much more of a “do-er.” If you wanted anything thoughtful, you didn't ask Jack. It just wasn't the way things worked. 

All of a sudden he wondered if he had once again leaped before looking, and gotten himself too deep into something he couldn't get himself out of. It was that thing with all the teeth (so, so many teeth) that he'd decided to keep as a pet, all over again. Maybe he just wasn't cut out to be anyone's main Caregiver. 

Only...Eddie wasn't trying to eat him or the kitchen table. And he wasn't certain that he did want out of this commitment. After all, he loved his Little Eddie more than he ever thought he could love anyone who wasn't the twins, or Gregor, or Helena. And, well, not being able to do something had never stopped Jack from doing it before. So, Jack supposed that he could (probably) live with making a decision or two once in a while if it meant he got to keep his baby. 

That decided, Jack scraped together his very limited mental faculties and began to think, (a somewhat painful process) and eventually came to the only conclusion he could come to:

“Eddie is a baby and needs his diapers. Also, bottles, and pacifiers, and other baby things. Because he is a baby.” And Jack nodded resolutely, because according to himself, (one of the highest authorities he knew) his logic was completely sound. 

Helena looked approving, and Eddie seemed to relax in his arms. This wasn't nearly as difficult as Jack thought it would be. So Jack, feeling emboldened, made another decision. “We should go back to bed and sleep. In my room!”

“Your room?” Eddie looked up at him curiously. He had spent a bit of time now in the mirror dimension, (it was collectively agreed that Eddie should be eased into their world; also, they all just really enjoyed hanging around the bookshop with Aziraphale and Crowley) but he had only ever been in a few common rooms and the twins’ nursery. 

“Yes! You're my baby, so you'll sleep in my room. You want boring, old Helena to come and sleep with us too, baby?”

Helena, well used to Jack by now, just ignored him; which made Jack pout like the soppy thing he was. 

Eddie thought a moment, then nodded. It would be nice if Helena came too, she could give him head scratches. He laid his head against Jack's shoulder and gave a yawn. Bed sounded nice. 

Eddie blinked and they were walking down a hallway. Jack opened a door, which took them into another hallway.... Because yeah, that made sense. They walked past rows and rows of doors. (One of which was covered in deadbolts, chains, and padlocks, and Eddie really, really didn't want to know why.)

They somehow ended up right by the twins’ nursery, which Eddie could have sworn was just a few feet away from the parlor. Maybe it had moved since the last time he had been there. At this point, Eddie honestly wouldn't be surprised. Things that you wouldn't think ought to move, tended to move here. Doors, dolls, floors, books, walls on occasion. It was...kind of cool really, once, of course, Eddie had gotten over the inital freak out and accompanying existential crisis of realizing that everything he understood to be true meant absolutely nothing here. 

The mirror wraith's world was a place where things both seemed to make more and less sense all at once, sort of like a less whimsical, and significantly more creepy, Wonderland. 

Eddie had always liked the concept of Wonderland. When he was a child he had dreamed of escaping his melancholy existence to somewhere weird and wonderful, like Alice had. But, he'd gotten older and he'd never fallen down a rabbit hole, (not, however, for lack of trying; only there seemed to be something of a shortage of them in London) and had grown up to accept that rabbit holes only housed rabbits and not alternate universes, and Alice was just daydreaming after all. 

This, though...this world with the mirror wraiths and their unconditional acceptance of him was a million times better than Wonderland; even if he was halfway certain that the twins’ dolls, or the weird, purple, scurrying thing with too may legs that lived under the sofa, (or maybe Aziraphale) would eat him one day. 

However, if this had been Wonderland, thought Eddie sleepily, as he burrowed his face into Jack's neck, Jack would definitely be the Mad Hatter. He had the fashion sense for it, and Eddie knew for a fact he owned a top hat. 

As Eddie brought his thumb up to slip into his mouth, and before sleep took him, it occurred to him there was one cardinal difference between him and Alice: Eddie didn't want to leave.


	188. Chapter 188

Lilith drummed her fingers against the armrest of her chair. She was someone who had always known her own mind, what she wanted to do (though often what she wanted to do, and what was the most advisable thing to do, were not, in fact, one and the same). Now a decision lay before her, and for the first time in what was a very long existence, she didn't know what to do. 

A letter had come for Lucifer, and because he was in no particular desire at the moment to deal with...well, anything really, it had been opened and read by Lilith. 

The contents were laughable. The Archangel Gabriel wanted to ask Lucifer a question, as if they were old friends and not celestial enemies on two sides of a great eternal battle. A question about Raphael. 

Lillith knew how Lucifer felt about the Little, and former, Archangel, and she had no doubt that he would want to be apprised of the asshole-ish Archangel's interest in the Little demon. However....

The boss was unwell. He had pinned every last shred of hope on the success of the Apocalypse. He believed it to be the last salvation for the six hundred and sixty-six angels he had led to their Fall. All for it to be stopped by a rouge angel in a tartan bow tie and the Little that he had once adored. 

A letter from his former friend, and current unbearable bag of dicks, the Archangel Gabriel, might just have disastrous results. It might be the final push over the metaphorical precipice from which he was dangling. 

Or...it might bring some sort of fight back into the eyes of her boss (and dare she say it...friend), which had gone worryingly dead these past few months. 

She shook her head, as if that might straighten out the jumble of her thoughts. But all she succeed in doing was dislodging a twig and a few stray leaves from her mane of dark hair. 

She stood, letter in hand, her bare feet pressed against the cold concrete floor. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and decided. After all, she thought, it would hardly be the first decision she had made with disastrous consequences, would it?


	189. Chapter 189

Jack's room was very...Jack. 

The walls were covered in old anatomical drawings that looked to be from all over the world, and from various time periods. Most, even Eddie could tell, were horrifically inaccurate. 

There were also old black and white film posters: ‘Frankenstein,’ Bride of Frankenstein,’ and anything that had "undead" or "living dead" in the title. And what bits of Jack's walls weren't covered by posters or drawings, were covered in what was quite frankly the most repulsive and ugliest yellow wallpaper Eddie had ever seen. His ceiling was painted a bright orange, and multicolored paper lanterns hung from it. 

The rest of the room was cluttered with jars of questionable looking things...in what Eddie assumed was formaldehyde. In one corner there was a sewing form, and piles of fabric and yarn. 

Weird as it was, Eddie liked it. It was comforting being surrounded by so much of Jack. Though, he did wish the mirror wraith in question would wake up. Or Helena, Helena would also do as well. 

Eddie's throat and mouth were unbearably dry and he couldn't go back to sleep. He really, really wanted a bit of that bottle he had refused last night. The absolute second Helena or Jack woke up he was going to very, very politely ask for something to drink. 

He stuck the pacifier, (which was purple and pink with a little eye painted on it and very obviously one of the twins') that Helena had given him last night into his mouth again and snuggled back down, clutching his raven. He lay there for a long while, and when he blinked, Jack was awake and staring at him. 

Jack, seeing that Eddie was now awake, sat up and pulled Eddie into his lap. “Helena is making you a bottle.”

“Thank you,” responded Eddie automatically, his voice a bit rough. 

Jack looked at the Little fondly. “Such a good baby,” he cooed in a grotesquely soppy voice. 

Then he rummaged around blindly with one hand in the covers for one of the plush toys that he kept in the bed. All of which were hand-stitched creatures of a multitude of different fabrics and parts, with dead black button eyes. They would be slightly terrifying, if Eddie had not been thoroughly anesthetized by the twins’ dolls. 

The mirror wraith wiggled the toy in Eddie's face. It was a blob of floral fabrics with a gaping black felt mouth, studded with what looked suspiciously like real human teeth. 

“Hello Eddie, I am Victor. Do you want to play with me?” Jack said in a comically low and somewhat dopey voice. 

Eddie giggled and nodded. Jack pressed the toy to Eddie's cheek with a smacking sound in a pantomime of a kiss...and yep. Those definitely felt like real teeth. 

Helena's pleasant voice washed over him. “Having fun?” she asked, as a bottle was handed to Jack and placed in Eddie's mouth, where he greedily began to suck. 

She sat down cross-legged on the bed and began to stroke the Little's hair. 

“I think,” said Jack, looking appropriately thoughtful, “it's time that the baby had a room here.” He looked down at Eddie in his arms. “Would you like that, baby?”

Eddie nodded furiously, dribbling a bit of milk down his chin in the process. A room of his own here meant that he was staying, and that was all that he really wanted. 

Jack gently wiped away the milk on Eddie's chin with a garish green handkerchief produced from...somewhere. 

“I think we should go to the bookshop and tell the twins. They will want to help, of course,” Jack continued. “Would you like that, Eddie baby?”

Eddie nodded again. He could certainly count on the twins to make his room cool and creepy. Though, he rather did hope that they didn't fill it with dolls. (Especially dolls that moved.) 

“And the Little demon Crowley,” Helena added. “I'm certain that he will want to help as well, and he does have such similar tastes to Little Eddie.”

The Eddie in question stopped mid-suck. Crowley...Crowley. What would Crowley think of the extreme babying that Eddie was getting now? The demon had been so excited that Eddie was going to be a bigger Little; a bigger, better brother for him. He was going to be so very disappointed with Eddie. 

Eddie shifted uncomfortably. He absolutely hated the thought of disappointing anyone, but especially his demon friend who had always been so kind to him. But...he didn't want to be bigger, and if lied like the lying liar he sometimes was, and said he did, Jack would be disappointed. 

As Helena and Jack happily chatted above him about their plans for his new room, Eddie frantically began to attempt to think of someway he could please everyone.


	190. Chapter 190

Lucifer had been laughing hysterically for a good while now, and Lilith was starting to worry. She wasn't entierly certain if this was a bad or a good sign, or neither, but it certainly was irritating. 

Maybe the letter had been the last step to relieving the boss of the few marbles he had managed to retain after the Sorry-Wrong-Apocalypse-Who's-This? 

Eventually, the maniacal laughter subsided, leaving Satan hunched over Gabriel's pristine letter, head crumpled in a clawed hand. 

The silence stretched on until, in a deep rumbling voice that shook the very ground on which she stood, Lucifer with out ever lifting his gaze spoke, “Lilith, put on some clothes. We're going upstairs.”


	191. Chapter 191

Eddie wiggled away from Jack's grabbing hands, making a dive under the covers of Jack's bed. 

“Come on, baby,” Jack said, unperturbed, “don't you want to go to the bookshop and play with Crowley and the twins?”

“No.”

Jack and Helena shared a look between them. 

“Well,” said Helena, “no one will make you go anywhere you don't want to, but I can't help but think that there might be a reason that you don't want to go back to the bookshop, hmmm?”

Eddie just let out an unpleasant strangled noise. He'd had quite enough of telling people things for the time being, thank you very much. 

“If you tell us what's wrong, we can try to fix it, sweetie.”

Helena had a way of making Eddie feel that he should tell her things. That everything would be alright if he just did. He supposed it couldn't hurt, Crowley was going to be disappointed with him whether Jack and Helena knew about it or not. Also, Eddie really, really didn't want Jack and Helena to think he was just being bratty. 

He poked his head out of the blankets. “I, uhhh...told Crowley that I was going to be a bigger Little, and he was, like, really, really excited. I think he wanted a bigger brother and he's going to be really disappointed that I want to be a stupid baby.”

Jack threw his too long body on the bed, looping his thin arms around Eddie and squeezing. 

Helena loved them all, she realy did, but they were entirely hopless. The whole lot of them. She suppressed a sigh and handed Eddie the full sippy cup she was holding. She pet his hair and kissed his forehead, then turned to Jack, who was still wrapped around the Little. “Wait here with Eddie for a little while, won't you, sweetie?”

Jack shrugged as best as he could while curled around Eddie. “Sure, what are you going to do?”

“Talk to the Little demon Crowley,” Helena said, emphasizing the word ‘talk.’

Eddie looked somewhat alarmed. So Helena petted his hair again to soothe him. 

“Eddie, sweetie, Crowley will have to know unless you never want to see him again. And I have a suspicion about this whole matter that I should like to test. I think you may be pleasantly surprised. So, will you trust me and wait here with Jack?”

Eddie didn't see any better options, so he nodded. Helena probably knew what she was doing, anyway. Eddie loved Jack, but if he ever had a problem, a real problem, Helena was definitely the one to go to. Eddie nodded again and stuck the spout of his sippy cup into his mouth. 

Helena smiled, gave him one last pat on the head, and walked out the door. As she continued down the hall she shook her head, her multitude of braids swinging back and forth. 

They really all were hopeless.


	192. Chapter 192

Lucifer often chose forms that were considered attractive in whatever place he was, at whatever particular time. It was not, as humans thought, some clever way to seduce them to sin and Satanism by making them lustful for the devil himself, but because Satan was, in fact, very, very insecure. 

When he had Fallen, he had been given a pallor of deformity in whatever form he took. There was nothing actually deformed about him, but if you were to stare at him for any length of time, you would experience a profound feeling that there was something terribly wrong with the person before you. For a creature who had spent his existence being praised for his beauty and grace from the second he had been created, it was a very jarring punishment, to say the least. And Lucifer was terribly aware that any beauty he had once possessed had been irreparably tainted. 

Today, Lucifer had choosen to look much like he often had in Heaven so very long ago. His corporation was that of a handsome male with high cheekbones and fine, delicately pointed features with long golden hair pulled back with a velvet ribon and eyes precisely the same color as the sky on a exceptionaly cold day in the Arctic circle. 

He attired his corporation in a beautiful three piece suit with silver buttons, which Lucifer thought surely must still be in fashion. He had only purchaced it in 1923, after all. 

Lilith strolled in, not, for once, naked. Though as close to naked as one could get while still wearing clothing. He never could manage to get her in aything more than loose cotton dresses or overly large tunics and harem pants; and the one time he had attempted to get a pair of shoes on her had resulted in her corporation being destroyed beyond repair and more damage than he'd care to admit to his. 

He'd left her dead for a good five months as punishment for that, intending to leave her dead for far longer. Only, after a while, he'd come to miss the rotten thing. So he'd made her a new corporation and stuck her soul unceremoniously back in it, and never again tried to make her wear shoes. For the devil had long since learned which battles were worth fighting and which ones weren't. (This one definitely was not.) 

Obviously, the devil couldn't just waltz into Heaven. There were, of course, rules and regulations, as well as a great deal of preventive magic keeping him from ever going back home, and Lucifer had absolutely no intention to invite Gabriel into his domain, as shabby as it was. So it had to be Earth. 

There were places for this sort of thing. That was both the rather pleasant and unpleasant thing about Earth; if you looked hard enough, you could find a place for anything you could think of, and some things you couldn't. 

The ancient man who lent out the rooms of his even more ancient estate, that was exceptionally difficult to find on any map, (it could, in fact, be found only on one map, which was very ironically currently tucked in one of the books in A. Z. Fell's bookshop) to particular cliental did not ask Lucifer or Lillith for any payment as he led them to the suite. He did not comment when Lilith begin to undress the second she stepped over the threshold. (Even though he privately thought it very unhygienic.) 

Likewise, he did not comment when Lucifer lit up a clove cigarette right under the brass "please no smoking" sign tacked to the wall. He valued life, as he had the unhappy burden of knowing something of what would come after. He would like to, if at all possible, continue to keep living for the foreseeable future, and a while past that as well. So he just quietly bowed his head and left, returning a while later to show a man in dove gray suit into the room. 

Lucifer looked at Gabriel. 

Gabriel looked at Lucifer. 

Lilith looked bored. 

Gabriel broke the silence. “I really don't see why you couldn’t have just wrote back.”


	193. Chapter 193

All that was needed for happiness in this existence, Crowley was certain, was a pudgy angel to curl up on. 

The happiness did diminish slightly when said angel gently slid you off him in order to go and talk to some pesky mirror wraith. Crowley grumbled at the loss of his angelic heating pad and tried to make himself comfortable once again. He had just, almost, drifted back off when a bit of the hushed conversation from the hall filtered in. 

“...demon Crowley seems to have told Eddie that he should prefer him to be Big...”

“Yes, Eddie's quite upset...”

“...scared of disappointing the Little demon Crowley...”

“I'm certain that he won't be...”

“Yes, I'll talk to Crowley when he wakes...”

“I really wish...hopeless things could...trying to please everyone else...”

“Eddie would be grateful if...he doesn't even want to come to the bookshop for fear of...”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut so hard he saw stars. How the Hel...Somewhere...had he managed to fuck this up, too? Just when he thought he had finally got it all right. Maybe there was a reason he had never had friends. Maybe he was just rubbish at the whole business and should just phone it in before he did something even more disastrous. 

But that might hurt Eddie more, not to mention the twins. 

This, thought Crowley, was the kind of situation in which people often prayed to a (theoretically) benevolent God for answers. Unfortunately, God never seemed to get around to answering back, so you were left all on your lonesome.

Crowley sighed. He would, of course, tell Eddie that he just wanted him to be happy, no matter what Eddie wanted to be. And he would stuff the feeling of failure, that tasted like copper and spoiled milk, deep down inside him. This was about Eddie, and Eddie finally being happy, and Crowley may have been a demon, but even he wasn't such an ass as to make some else's unhappiness about his own. (That was much more the domain of the other side, anyway. Dreadful attention hogs, the holy.)

Crowley squeezed his angel bear and prepared himself for Aziraphale's return. He would be better this time. He just have to try harder.


	194. Chapter 194

Gabriel sat down stiffly, in a chair that was uncomfortably close to Lucifer's. 

“I thought,” said Lucifer, blowing smoke in Gabriel's face (because he was the devil, and because he could), “that this was a subject deserving of a face-to-face conversation.”

Gabriel just made a face, though whether that was the result of the question or the smoke was anyone's guess. 

“So?” said Gabriel impatiently. 

“Ask me again,” said Lucifer, examining his cigarette. 

Gabriel was getting slightly annoyed, but he could be diplomatic. Very diplomatic. He was the picture of patience and finesse. So he took a deep breath and began. “You once told me that you thought that baby Raphie might not have a Caregiver.”

“Did I?” said the devil, the tightness in his voice quite apparent to any semi-sentient being who heard it. So obviously, Gabriel remained completely oblivious and continued on. 

“Yes, you did. And I am aware that you asked God some...impertinent...questions. And I wish to to know if you asked God why baby Raphie had no Caretaker. And if so, why. Because obviously there was a sensible reason involving the Great Plan as to why baby Raphie was alone.”

Lucifer stood and took a long drag of his cigarette before dropping it, still lit. It vanished before it hit the floor. He strode over to Gabriel and leaned over the Archangel, so close that their noses were almost touching. 

“Do you want to know what God told me?” he growled, and his face seemed to shift and writhe as if something was trying to escape from it, and the air around him began to hum with a raw sort of power. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” said Gabriel simply, because, after all, that was what he was here for, wasn't it? 

Lucifer jerked back and turned from Gabriel to stare out of the large window at the bleak moors. His answer was quietly spoken, not, it seemed, to Gabriel, but more to himself. “Nothing. She told me nothing.”


	195. Chapter 195

A series of rapid, and rather prim, knocks sounded on the door. “Crowley, dear? Why don't you come out and take a break?”

Crowley groaned. “Guuuuhhhh...angeeeellll. I'm almost done, I'll be out in a little bit.”

“Crowley,” said the angel sternly, clearly getting annoyed. 

“Just a few more minutes, angel!” Crowley definitely didn't whine. He really, really wanted to finish this. 

“Twenty more minutes, Crowley. That is all. Then you are coming out, and having a diaper change and something to eat.”

“Fiiiinnnneeee,” Crowley groaned. And he heard Aziraphale's footfalls as the angel left. 

Crowley wiggled to try and gauge how wet his diaper was, which in turn wiggled the rather unsteady stack of chairs that the demon was currently perched on. (The stack of chairs knew better than to dare collapse, no mater how terribly Crowley had stacked them, or how many laws of physics they had to defy to do so.) 

Crowley dipped his paintbrush into the small can of white paint and painted another white star on the ceiling. 

He had really wanted to do something to make things up to Eddie, and he could think of nothing else he was even remotely good at (besides making a total mess of everything he ever attempted) other than making stars.

He had enlisted the twins’ help in painting the ceiling black, in order to go with the largely black and white color scheme of Eddie's new room. (Crowley approved, though he had suggested more red and more plants be added to the decor.) Though Crowley didn't know how much help the twins actually had been, seeing as how it seemed that they had gotten more paint on each other than on the ceiling. 

He leaned back to paint the final star. He took his paintbrush and can of paint, and clambered down the rickety chair structure. He stood back and looked at his work. The white stars twinkled and shimmered on the black ceiling, as they were expected to. Crowley was overall quite happy with his work, and he couldn't wait to surprise Eddie with it. 

He dismantled the chair tower and went to open the door. His hand hovered over the knob. He didn't want to leave. 

Crowley had been feeling his snake-y nature catching up to him with a sudden cold snap that had overtaken London. It didn't seem to matter that the inside of the bookshop was more than warm enough, he was constantly sleepy and sluggish; because it was exactly the sort of weather he would usually hibernate through. But for the first time in his six thousand years, he didn't want to just happily sleep his existence away. Well...he didn't want to sleep all of his existence away. He wanted be awake, and with his angel and his friends. (In the rather dramatic image Crowley had conjured in the depths of his mind, he was always sleeping in the cold, dark bedroom alone while Aziphale and the mirror wraiths had a great big ‘Yay!-Crowley-Isn't-Here Party.’ In some versions, Gabriel and Beelzebub showed up as well.) 

Being in the mirror realm was like a balm to his sleepy, demon self. Here, he did not feel the pull of hibernation. Crowley supposed it was because he didn't think there was an outside here, let alone seasons. 

Crowley plopped down on the plastic covered floor with a squish and fiddled around in the pocket of his black overalls for his pacifier. Triumphant, he popped it in his mouth. It was only for a couple months more that he would be sleepy. It would hardly discorporate him not to sleep enough. All he had to do was tough it out a couple months more, and not raise Aziraphale's suspicions. If his angel found out, he would probably make Crowley sleep “for his own good” because Crowley was “absolutely dreadful at taking care of himself.” Or some nonsense like that. 

And Crowley didn't want that. He might actually be a bit of the baby he was always claiming he wasn't, because he found he couldn't bear the thought of being alone, even when he was asleep.


	196. Chapter 196

“What do you mean She told you nothing?” 

“I mean,” said Lucifer, turning back around to face the Archangel, “exactly what I said.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “Surely She can't have said nothing?”

“Oh, She said something alright. She said She was very disappointed in me for questioning Her. That who was I to know anything of Her great plan. Nevermind it concerned the fate of all of us. You, me, baby Raphie."

“I'm sure,” said Gabriel, and he was surprised at how weak his voice sounded, “that She knows what She is doing. That all suffering will be justified in the end.”

“Really, you are?” said Lucifer, rounding on Gabriel, looking increasingly more maniacal by the second. “What about Job, then?”

“Don't you already have one? King of Hell? The Beast? Great Adversary? Etc., etc.?”

Satan came very, very close to bashing his head against the wall. “Not a job, you absolute moron. Job the human. He's in that book your lot is so very keen on.”

“The Bible,” interjected Gabriel, a bit pentulantly. "I came up with the name for it, you know.”

Lucifer was largely unsurprised that Gabriel had been the one to suggest naming a book ‘the book,’ as apparently all of the meager powers of thought and imagination he possessed had been dumped into making creatures so weird looking the other angels had plopped them in the remotest areas of Earth possible, and hoped fervently that they would go extinct. 

“After I Fell, I tried to make a point to Her. I held up the human Job as an example. He believed in Her, and for a human, he had much. I said if She began to mistreat him, he would begin to question Her fairness, as I had, as you are doing now.”

“I'm not questioning,” Gabriel said firmly; he had just wanted to know the answer to something. Entirely different. 

“So She made a bet with me. And She destroyed Job's life. She killed his children and animals, depleted his wealth, set his house on fire. Then, presumably just for fun, she covered him in boils. He begged God to kill him and She didn’t see fit to grant him this; then he began to wonder why God had done this to him. Do you know what She told him?”

Gabriel blinked. “No.” (He'd never actually read the Bible; it had been, in loose terms, Heaven's idea, but they had left the particulars largely up to the humans.) 

“That who is he to know, She has to explain nothing to him. He begged for forgiveness, and eventually She gave him back his animals and children. Oh, but new ones, of course, seeing as how the old ones were still dead. So tell me, great Archangel Gabriel, what part did Job's suffering, all those deaths, play in the great plan of your God?”

“I don't know,” admitted Gabriel, “but She is all knowing and all powerful, surely She must have foreseen something that made Her....”

But Lucifer cut him off. “How do you know? How do you know that She is all powerful?”

“Because She told me so.”

“And how do you know She isn't lying?”

“You're trying to trick me, fiend. God is...good. She wouldn't lie. She doesn't need to. She knows all, hence the plan; everything is for the greater good.” It comforted Gabriel to repeat the old, familiar mantras of Heaven. God was good. Lucifer was lying. End of story.

Lucifer shook his head. But then he paused. A question had just come to him, and like so many questions before, he voiced it. “What about baby Raphie, then? Is anything in that grand, unknowable plan so good that it was worth the endless suffering of Raphael - alone and frightened, working amongst the stars? Coming back to Heaven to find he was the only Little who was not given what they were made to need, a Caregiver? Watching as every other Little in Heaven was showered in love and adoration? Then having you turn your back on him as he Fell, when he had done nothing to deserve....”

Lucifer hit the wall with a thud. 

Gabriel had intended to rebut the Devil's speech with an articulate and well-reasoned argument that he would inevitably win, because he was right. Because he had always been right. Instead, what he had done was punch Lucifer squarely in the face. 

He looked down at his clenched fist, then back to Lucifer, who was standing, gingerly cupping the profusely bleeding nose of his corporation. Lucifer straightened and took long strides across the room towards the Archangel, to return the favor by punching him in the face as well. 

And the meeting, which quite frankly hadn't been much of a success up until this point, began to go rapidly downhill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, I've been officially at this for five months. Should re-eavaulate what I'm doing with my life? Probably. Am I going to? No, I shall keep on writing this instead.


	197. Chapter 197

Aziraphale was slightly worried about his baby. Slightly more worried than usual, that is. The demon had been acting oddly, even for Crowley, and this morning at breakfast he had fallen asleep facedown in a bowl of blueberry porridge.

Aziraphale carried his sleeping demon into the bathroom. He thought a quick bath would be best (the demon was rather covered in porridge), then a nap.

The angel had had a growing suspicion that Crowley was overdue for a bit of hibernation. He'd seen firsthand what exactly the cold could do to his baby and, while Aziraphale knew it couldn't exactly discorporate the demon, he was a firm believer in taking care of one's corporation; so if he had anything to say about it, Crowley would be taking a nap, maybe a several month long one.

He laid his Little demon on the bathroom changing table and began to gently tug off his leggings, then his skirt and plastic pants, and by the time he had gotten to his sweater (not the special one he had stolen from Aziraphale, thank Someone), Crowley began to wake up.

Yellow eyes looked around suspiciously. “Whaaaa...whaaaatssss go'n on?”

“You fell asleep during breakfast, dear boy. You're absolutely covered in porridge, darling.”

Crowley squinted down at himself. “Oh.”

“So,” Aziraphale continued cheerily, “I think a bath is in order, then a fresh diaper and some cozy pajamas, and bit of hibernation for my sweet little snake.”

Crowley looked oddly alarmed at that and began to wiggle away from the angel. “No. No. No hibernation.”

Aziraphale was somewhat alarmed by the sudden fit, and the barrage of gangly limbs he now had to dodge. 

“Crowley, will you please stop attempting to kick me?”

The demon must have thought he had actually succeeded in kicking the angel (accidentally, obviously) because he immediately sat up and began to examine the angel for bruising (as if, thought Aziraphale, slightly unkindly, those limp noodles that Crowley called limbs could do any damage to him whatsoever), babbling apologies all the while. 

For being an actual demon, Crowley was usually quite well-behaved. So Aziraphale was rather determined to get to the root of this sudden temper tantrum. 

He embraced the Little and cooed, “I'm perfectly fine; now what's this all about, my dearest boy?”

“Don't wanna hibernate.”

“Ahhhh, and why don't you want to hibernate, darling?”

Crowley looked rather sheepish, but much to the angel's delight actually answered him. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

Alone? Thought Aziraphale. Did Crowley really think that he was going to chuck him into the spare room where he was sleeping without so much as a ‘by your leave’ and leave him there until spring? 

But this was Crowley, of course that was what he thought. Aziraphale stifled a sigh. “How about this, darling - you sleep as much as you need to and I promise you that you will never be alone for any of it.”

“I wanna go to the mirror world sometimes...,” here Crowley yawned, “‘cause I'm awake there...wake-y snake-y.” Crowley giggled. “And I wanna play with the twins and Eddie so they don't get a new friend while I’m sleepin’.” 

Aziraphale refrained from asking who or what Crowley thought that they would replace him with. He just kissed his baby's slightly porridge-y hair and said, “of course, dear.”

“You really won't leave me while I'm sleepy?”

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

“You're too good to me, angel,” Crowley yawned. 

I'm really not, thought Aziraphale. He had done nothing very extraordinary for his dearest Little, but it seemed that the bar had been set so very low for Crowley's expectations that small things seemed extrodinary. He held his demon tighter. How could he leave him? He would be lost now without the pleasant weight of Crowley on his lap as he read. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if he had no one to smother, or no one that would make endless fun of his fashion choices while stealing the same items for himself. In one way or another, Aziraphale needed Crowley as part of his existence now. He hardly minded if Crowley needed a little month long nap, just so long as the demon took that nap where Aziraphale could still see and hold and care for him. 

It had worked out perfectly in the end, though; it seemed Crowley apparently needed the exact same thing. 

Aziraphale had never been the sort of angel who took much stock in “blessings,” mostly because he had received very few in his rather long existence. Things were nice, yes, but more often then not those things came from human imagination and ingenuity, rather than directly from God Herself. But Crowley was definitely a blessing, and Aziraphale found that he didn't particularly care if this blessing came from Heaven or Hell, just so long as Aziraphale got to keep it.


	198. Chapter 198

Lilith pulled out a pomegranate from her shoulder bag and began to peel it. She popped the first bit of the fruit in her mouth just as Gabriel was hurled out the window. She laughed as blood red juice trickled down her chin. 

Elsewhere in the mansion a very old man locked himself in his saferoom and wondered if he could count whatever was happening as an act of God on his insurance. 

Lucifer climbed out of the window after Gabriel, but the Archangel was waiting for him, and he found himself upside down in a tree before he had the chance to blink. He brought out his great wings, and propelled himself out of the tree and directly into the Archangel. They both grappled with each other on the muddy moors, decimating trees and one particularly unfortunate out building as they went along. 

After about twenty odd hours they began to tire. Lucifer sat down, his back against one of the still standing trees, and shoved his arm back into it's socket. 

Gabriel climbed out of the sizable crater he had been left in, nursing a very broken wing. He stood over Lucifer and watched the devil, who simply sat silently for a time. 

When he did speak, it sounded as if he had been gargling with gravel, which wasn't really all that far off from the truth. “Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to linger? Sit down.”

And Gabriel sat. They both silently worked, patching their corporations back together. At one point Gabriel asked Lucifer for his finger back. Lucifer, seemingly finished, though still covered in blood and mud and Heaven knows what else, let his head fall back against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. 

He blindly groped around in his pocket for his cigarette case. He offered one to Gabriel who turned his nose up at it. 

“I don’t sully my celestial temple with gross matter.”

Lucifer snorted, still holding out the cigarette. “You smoke it, not eat it.”

In almost any other circumstances Gabriel would have simply given a haughty, “no,” but right at this moment he felt like he needed something. He thought that that something was just as likely to be a cigarette as it wasn't, so he reached out and took it. 

He put it in his mouth after watching Lucifer do the same with his own cigarette. Then Lucifer snapped his fingers (he didn't really need to, but he thought it added a nice dramatic effect) and both cigarettes lit. 

Gabriel inhaled and promptly choked. He sputtered and coughed while Lucifer laughed. 

It made Gabriel think fondly of his time in Heaven, where he and Lucifer had often sat like this under a tree and laughed. (More often than not it was Lucifer laughing at Gabriel.) Often it was with baby Raphie sandwiched between them. 

But things were different now, Gabriel supposed. So much had changed since then. He paused as a thought came to him. He turned to Lucifer and told him as much. 

“You had a thought?” Lucifer asked, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Will miracles never cease?”

Gabriel, unaware as ever that he had been insulted, pressed on. “More of a question, really.”

With seemingly great effort Lucifer turned his head to look at the Archangel. “Yes?”

“You Fell. Baby Raphie Fell. You knew that he was...insufficiently provided for. So why didn't you take care of baby Raphie?”

Lucifer's expression, which had softened after beating thousands of years of repressed rage out and onto Gabriel, again turned hard and he looked away. 

“I did.”


	199. Chapter 199

Aziraphale had kept his word, not that Crowley thought he wouldn't. His angel wasn't a liar, except when it came to the whereabouts of flaming swords. 

This hibernation was fairly light; Crowley suspected that this was because now he had a reason to want to wake up. 

He often woke up to Aziraphale carrying him or cuddling him on his lap. Sometimes he woke up during a diaper change or while Aziraphale was sleeping, and once he woke up sitting on his angel's lap while the twins combed and festooned his hair with bows and small, cutely shaped barrettes. Apparently, sleeping Crowley made an even better dolly than awake Crowley. Though the demon hardly minded. He was simply glad that the twins were still interested enough in him to give him any attention at all. He couldn't be very entertaining now that he was sleeping all the time. 

He was a little awake now, he thought, and wiggled experimentally. He was laying down and covered in blankets, his diaper was wet, and there was someone snuggled up against him giving off lovely, lovely body heat. Crowley wiggled again. 

It definitely wasn't Aziraphale. They were not nearly soft enough and they smelled all wrong. Crowley opened his eyes. It was Eddie. Crowley poked his head up and looked around. He was in his crib and his angel was nowhere to be seen. That was odd and Crowley didn't like it. He wasn't really upset, as he hadn't woken up alone, he just wanted to see his angel to make certain said angel was alright. 

“You're awake.” Eddie had opened his eyes and was now looking at him. “Do you, uhhhh...want your Papa?”

Crowley nodded eagerly. He wanted to know that Heaven hadn't kidnapped his angel while Crowley had been enjoying a 20 hour long nap. 

Eddie pointed to a shiny new baby monitor that was hanging in his crib. “You can, um, just call his name.”

At first, Crowley was rather put out. He glared at the offending peice of technology. He didn't need a baby monitor, of all things. He was a Big demon. But...it would mean that his angel was only ever a cry away. And Crowley could hear if his angel ever needed him. (It should be noted that Crowley did not have a very firm grasp of how baby monitors worked. Though this particular one would work exactly as he expected it to.) He supposed the hated thing could stay, for his angel's sake of course. 

“Annnngeeeellll,” Crowley whined into the monitor, and before a full minute had passed the demon heard rapid footsteps coming towards him. 

“Crowley, my dear boy!” Aziraphale put down the side of the crib and scooped up the Little demon to plaster his face in kisses. Crowley was then perched on a wide hip as the angel began to walk to their bedroom. Aziraphale paused in the doorway to look over his shoulder. “Do keep up, dear boy.”

Eddie, looking startled at being addressed, scurried over and obediently followed them into the bedroom. 

Crowley received a very nice diaper change on the bed, with lots of pauses for kisses and belly rubs and just general angel attention, which Crowley reveled in. After all, angel attention was the best sort of attention. (Well, it was when it was this particular angel.) 

Freshly diapered, Crowley was swaddled in blankets and placed gently amongst the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. 

Aziraphale turned to Eddie and looked at him expectantly. After a few minutes of Eddie just looking rather confused, Aziraphale asked, with all the patience he could muster, “don't you want a diaper change, dear?”

“Uh...where's Jack?”

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale smiled. “He's in the mirror realm with Gregor and the twins and Helena.”

“I'll, um, uh...just get him to change me.”

The angel frowned. “You won't go bothering them now, they're doing something very important. Now, do hop up.”

Crowley, from his comfortable mountain of pillows, noticed that Eddie was looking rather pale and shaky. In fact, he looked, quite frankly, terrified. Crowley had seen people walking to the gallows that looked more at ease than Eddie did walking to the bed for a diaper change. 

Some gears began slowly and laboriously turning in the demons head. If Eddie was frightened, that meant that something was frightening him. Crowley frantically swiveled his head around, looking for whatever terrible things were upsetting his human. But he saw nothing...at least, nothing that should upset Eddie. Unless Eddie had suddenly developed a fear of books or overly fussy pillows with too much embroidery. 

Eddie was lying on the changing mat now, practically trembling, staring at Aziraphale's back as the angel fetched a fresh diaper from the pack that was kept in the closet. 

It couldn't be...definitely not. Eddie couldn't be afraid of his angel, of all people. His angel was the least intimidating creature in creation, and Crowley was including fuzzy, nose twitching bunnies and sweet, wobbly little lambs in that list. 

Aziraphale turned around and, for the first time, really took in the state of the Little human. His well groomed eyebrows knitted together. “Whatever is the matter, dear boy? You looks frightened out of your wits.”

“I think,” said Crowley, who was still in disbelief as he reached out to gently stoke Eddie's hair in an effort to calm him, “he's afraid of you.”


	200. Chapter 200

“You did not,” said Gabriel, who had never known when to keep his mouth shut for his own good. 

And just like that Lucifer was back to being pissed. 

“I tried to change Heaven itself so that he would be taken care of! I sent him to Earth so that he would be safe! I made a deal with Her so that he could continue to exist! Don't you dare insinuate that I didn't take care of Raphael!”

“But he was still alone! For thousands of years, on Earth without you or me, he turned to Aziraphale for Heaven's sake!” Gabriel looked half-pained as another thought occurred to him. “Why didn't you keep him with you? You should have, so you could have given him bottles and diapers and toys and whatever else he needed. Instead, you just left him!”

Lucifer rounded on Gabriel, his eyes glowing red, and something dark and unpleasant visably shifting under the thin layer of aesthetically pleasing humanity he had cloaked himself in. 

“I tried! After the unimaginable agony of Falling I went to him and found him alone and broken and weeping. So I went to embrace him...and...he ran from me. He cowered in fear.” Lucifer looked down at the manufactured hand of his corporation, slender and beautiful, yet still somehow unspeakably repulsive. “I hadn't yet realized that I had been changed.”

Even Gabriel, in his infinite stupidity, could recognize the sadness that was creeping into the Devil's voice. 

“Even after I found out how to take a form, much like what I had before, he still feared me...because he did not remember me.”

Oh, that made some sort of sense, thought Gabriel. After all, Baby Raphie hadn't remembered him, so why should he rembember someone of lesser importance to him like Luci? 

“I didn't want to imprison him with someone who he could hardly stand to look at without trembling in fear. You don't know what it was like in the early days. We were all so hurt and afraid...so angry. I had a duty to do what was best for all of the angels I had led to ruination. I did what I thought was best. For Raphael and for everyone.”

“Oh,” said Gabriel dumbly. “Well, I suppose that's alright then.”

Lucifer looked at him in disbelief, then began hysterically laughing. He was reminded of why he had once liked Gabriel and his incredibly stupid, yet earnest, way of looking at the world. 

The Devil wearily dropped back down to once again sit beside his former friend. “I suppose I didn't do much better by Crowley in Hell than She did in Heaven.” His voice was steeped in bitterness with a slight, yet distinct, garnish of self-loathing. 

Gabriel didn't know what to say to that. He no longer knew what was right and what was wrong, and what wasn't either one. Everything was just confusing now. 

So once again they lapsed into silence. 

Then, without any warning, Gabriel had another thought. Which really was quite exhausting as he'd had a great many of them recently and he wasn't certain he liked this new development one bit. He often desperately wished to go back to the comforting embrace of bureaucracy where he not only he wasn't required to think, but it was actively discouraged. 

He supposed since he had already gone to the trouble of having the thought, he might as well voice it. “You said something before about making a deal with God?”


	201. Chapter 201

“Oh, dear,” said Aziraphale. “Oh dear, oh dear.” The angel was pacing the room and wringing his chubby hands (all this, of course, only served to make Eddie feel worse). “I didn't know. I mean...oh, dear. I'll just go get Jack. Crowley, darling, you will stay with him, won't you?”

Crowley nodded; he was sleepy, but he deemed this far more important. He slithered down the bed to curl up around Eddie as his angel scurried off to fetch a mirror wraith. 

Crowley tucked blankets and plushies around them, then chatted about Freddie Mercury and his Cats. Then he told how he had invented the play Cats and kept it on Broadway for forever. Though now he deeply regretted it because he had seen the trailers for the film, and really, humans just had to go and make everything even worse, didn't they?

He talked until he could hear Eddie's breathing even out. Then they lay there a while until Crowley tentatively asked, “Why are you afraid of the angel?”

“I just.... He's really intimidating, you know?”

No, Crowley didn't know. He always found Aziraphale the literal opposite of intimating. He hadn't even found the Angel intimidating when he'd been a naughty demon in the garden and Aziraphale was patrolling it with a big fiery sword made for naughty demon smiting. 

“I mean, he's an actual angel. And he's kind of, uhhhh...” (here Eddie grappled for the least offensive word he could find) “grumpy sometimes and I don't think that he likes me very much. I also, like, told him off a bit when he left you in the crib alone so he's got to kind of hate me and, like, still be mad at me for that, doesn't he? I mean, what if he just got really, really mad at me and decided to smite me? I'd probably go to Hell with lakes of fire and demons with pitchforks and never see any of you ever again.” Eddie groaned and he seemed sincerely panicked about his chances of dying an Aziraphale-related death. 

“Hell doesn't have lakes of fire, or pitchforks,” Crowley absentmindedly corrected. He just couldn't understand Eddie's fear of Aziraphale. It was Aziraphale. The angel who had once made him stop the Bentley in the middle of the road so he could spend the next hour giving encouraging words to a snail crossing it. Aziraphale didn't hate anyone, he thought it was “un-angelic,” and Crowley told Eddie as much, though he did amend, “He may hate Gabriel, though, and particularly insistent non-buyers. He definitely doesn't hate you, though.”

Eddie looked at Crowley dubiously. 

“And even if he did, I wouldn't let my angel smite you. You're my human, remember?”

Eddie smiled, though it was slightly sad and Crowley had no idea why. “I don't think that Aziraphale thinks I'm good enough to be your friend.”

Crowley had met the personifications of War, Pollution, Famine, and Death, and he wondered if Eddie wasn't a long lost member of their ranks. He could definitely pass as Anxiety given a human form. 

The thing was that Crowley was pretty sure that Aziraphale had done nothing, or very little, to cultivate these ideas. Eddie was just terribly certain that everyone didn't like him, until they sat down and gently explained to him otherwise. (Crowley willfully did not notice the obvious similarities.) 

“You’re wrong,” Crowley said with a yawn. “You’re my friend and you'll be Aziraphale's friend too, once you stop being scared of him. Aziraphale already likes you, he lets you near his books, doesn't he? He gives you food. That's Aziraphale's way of liking you.”

Eddie made a non-committal noise. Clearly he wasn't listening to Crowley's very wise wisdom, and Crowley was too sleepy to convince him right at this moment. He snuggled up closer to Eddie and rested his head under the human's chin. 

He'd just have to make certian that Eddie was slowly acclimated to his angel, and got to see what a great, big, soft old softie his angel really was. After all, he couldn't have one of his favorite people in the universe afraid of the other one. 

He felt Eddie begin to stoke his hair. “It will be alright,” Crowley said, his words muddled by another yawn. “Jack will come and take care of you. Then the angel will show you how nice he is. You'll see Eddie. I thought he didn’t love me, but he doessss. ‘N if Papa can love me, he can love anyone. So obviously he lovessss you. See? Logic.”

“Uhhhh...yeah,” said Eddie. “Sure, I see. You should sleep.”

“No. Takin' care of you.”

“You, um...can take care of me by sleeping. I just like having you here with me. It's, you know, nice.”

"Mmmhhh...,” said Crowley, and closed his eyes. That made perfect sense, Crowley thought, and without further hesitation he drifted of to dream of slithering through lush gardens and finding perfect flat, warm rocks to sun himself on.


	202. Chapter 202

For a while Lucifer just looked up at the sky. It had grown dark again without either of them really noticing. 

He lit up another cigarette, and offered another to Gabriel. The Archangel took it and found that he could now inhale without coughing.

“I don't suppose that you ever bothered to wonder why Hell keeps tempting humans?”

“No,” said Gabriel, who had done most of his thinking in the past few months. “But it's because you’re Evil, right, and you enjoy doing Evil things and making others do Evil things so you can all be Evil together.”

Lucifer sighed and took a long drag of his cigarette. Would it have hurt his Mother terribly to give Gabriel just a couple more braincells? “Look,” the Devil said, trying to word the concept in a way a very, very slow child would be able to understand. “God has a plan.”

Gabriel nodded. “An ineffiable plan, apparently.”

Lucifer ignored him. “And in that plan humans pick a side. Right?”

“Right,” said Gabriel, still following along. 

“We tempt them, and they either stray and we get them or they stay with Her.”

“That is the plan,” the Archangel nodded. 

“So if I did want to serve God's ‘ineffable’ plan” (Lucifer spat out the word ‘plan’ with a vengeance) “why don't I just command my demons to stop tempting the humans. Refuse to bend to God's tyrannical whims. Throw a proverbial wrench in the works?”

“Errr...why don't you?”

Gabriel half expected Lucifer to become angry once again, but instead he just looked exceptionally weary. “Because if I did not agree to play my part, and make the others play theirs, She was going to wipe us from existence, and cast out more angels until enough agreed and Her game could go on.”

“Not baby Raphie, She wouldn't have done that to him.”

“Raphael was to be first, as an example, then She would keep eradicating us off one by one, until I either gave in or there was no one left.”

Lucifer looked at the angel who had once been his friend with odd glassy eyes. 

“She granted me one consent, one hope. If we retrieved enough souls, if we gained enough power, we might win the Earth and be able to exist there as we wished to be, free from Her influence as much as we could ever be. Though, I have doubts as if that was ever to happen.”

Gabriel stared unseeingly ahead; he hadn't really been listening to that last bit, he was far more focused on the part where God had threatened to wipe Baby Raphie from existence. “I...I don't understand. I mean, you I can understand eliminating. Even Beelzebub, who's fairly tolerable for a demon and quite a good listener. But Raphie is just a baby. And God was willing to just make him not exist anymore? Why?”

Gabriel turned to Lucifer, his eyes pleading. Lucifer had, over the thousands of years, fantasized countless times about seeing the mighty Archangel Gabriel so low. And now that the moment was finally at hand...it didn't feel nearly as good as he thought it would. The gaping hole inside him wasn't filled. There was no triumph, just a sort of aching sadness and resignation. 

“I'm sorry, I truly am,” Lucifer sighed and stood. It didn't matter if he Fell, Gabriel would never be as he once was. With a wave of his hand all of the destruction they had wrought during their minor disagreement was righted. And Lucifer turned from the angel he had once called a friend. 

“You're leaving?” Gabriel shouted at his back. “You can't leave! I came here with one question and now I have...lots of questions! What do I do now?”

Lucifer turned around to look at Gabriel, and, for what felt like the millionth time (if one estimated conservatively), he sighed. “I can't tell you that because I don't know. Don't ask me. Look what a bloody mess I've made of everything. I asked for a suggestion box in Heaven and got a reign of eternal torment in Hell. You'll just have to...I don't know...figure it out for yourself.”

And with that, the devil was gone. And once more Gabriel was alone.


	203. Chapter 203

“Crowley, dear, are you awake?”

“Nnnggguuukkk,” replied Crowley; he hadn't been completely asleep, but he hadn't been completely awake either. He opened one yellow eye to peer through the dark at the angel he was sharing a bed with. He spit out his pacifier and rubbed his eyes. “I'm awake now, angel.”

“I'm sorry, dear; it's only that, well...do you think it was something I said?”

Crowley was lost and required further clarification, so he communicated this to his angel. “Whaaaa?”

Luckily, said angel was very well versed in Crowley speak at this point and knew exactly what his Little love had been asking. 

“Eddie. Do you think I said something that made him frightened of me? Or did something? I mean, well, I don't want to be immodest, but Littles usually like me. It sort of bothers me that Eddie doesn't. Maybe I took a little while to warm up to him, but he has proven to be such a dear boy. I don't like to think I make him afraid.”

Crowley slithered out of his cocoon of blankets to embrace his angel and run thin fingers through his curly hair. 

“Eddie first saw you when you were going all avenging angel and saving me. Not that I couldn't have saved my self, of course.”

“Of course, dear,” said Aziraphale fondly. 

“And he's just a bit jumpy around you now. You know, celestial beings with flaming swords are a teeny bit intimidating to humans.”

“I do understand that, but Eddie has been here a while now; certainly he's seen that I'm not...you know, smite-y. What if I'm really like Gabriel, or worse, Sandalphon, and just haven't realized it and Eddie can just sense it? You did say I was a bit of a bastard, after all.” 

“Aaaannnnggggeeeellll,” Crowley whined. “You're being ridiculous. Do you remember when were walking in the countryside and you make us traipse trough the woods because you saw a baby deer you thought looked a bit sad?”

“Well, yes.”

“And then you found the drunken hunters that killed it's mother and brought it back to life while they were carrying it home?”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale, not entirely certain as to his dearest's point. 

“Do you think that Gabriel or Sandalphon would have cared enough about a maudlin fawn to do all that?”

“Well, no.”

“My point is: you're a nice angeeeellll. And all Eddie needs to do is to spend a bit of time with you to see how nauseatingly good you are. Then he'll love you just as much as I do...well, maybe not as much as I do. But lots. Just spend time with him and tell him that you like him.” Crowley yawned. “Maybe take him to your next manicure appointment, his nail polish is always chipped.” The demon wrinkled his nose at the thought. His own black nail polish never scuffed or chipped. It wouldn't dare.

Aziraphale cupped Crowley's cheeks in his pudgy hands. “What a lovely idea, darling! You're such a clever little dear!” 

The demon blushed and flicked out his little forked tounge happily. 

Eddie and Aziraphale were going get along, Crowley thought, as he snuggled down against his soft, lovely angel. Crowley was going to make certain of it.


	204. Chapter 204

Ligur fastened the Velcro sides of Hastur's diaper. 

“I suppose,” he said dryly, “that you won't be good while I'm gone.”

Hastur snorted. 

“I didn't think so,” said Ligur, as he fastened the snaps of his Little toad’s plastic pants.

He then began the task of dressing his baby. When Ligur left he liked to always be sure to dress Hastur in something he wouldn't be caught dead in public in. Today it was a grey, long sleeve shirt, and dark green overalls with a happy frog stitched on the pocket. (Hastur obviously only tolerated such an item because of the frog.) 

He plopped down his Little toad in a nest of plushies and blankets on the floor in front of a very old portable television Ligur had procured. It showed whatever Hastur wanted to see, which was mostly shows featuring gratuitious violence or frogs (and occasionally other amphibians).

He made certain that Hastur had a bottle and a couple of sippy cups prepared. He kissed Hastur on the forehead. 

“If you have an accident remember to miracle it away. I don't want you to get a rash.”

Hastur grumbled something under his breath which probably wasn't particularly nice. Ligur ignored him and ruffled his white hair. 

“I'm going now, Little toad. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“I don't care,” Hastur sniffed, focused on the documentary about poisionous frogs now playing on the small screen. 

“Alright.” Ligur shrugged and made to leave. 

“Bring me a present when you come back,” came Hastur's voice, which sounded much smaller than usual. 

“Of course, don't I always?” Since Ligur had began to leave for short amounts of time on, reconnaissance, let us call it, he had taken to always bringing home something for his Little toad. It was stuffies mostly, frogs, lizards, and other reptiles, the television, bath toys, a set of blocks for Hastur to noisily knock down. (Ligur had a bit of buyers remorse about that one.) 

It had significantly cut down on the amount of temper tantrums when he got back. Over time, Hastur stopped throwing fits every time. Ligur rather hoped that it was a sign that his Little toad that he knew would come back. 

Ligur made his way to London and slunk through the streets until he found a nice little shadowy lurking spot from which he could watch a certain bookshop. 

His original intention had been to gather information about the inhabitants, and if he deemed the angel and his mirror wraith friends to be suitable candidates to take care of his Little Toad (only occasionally, and in the event of Ligur's second Holy water induced demise), and tactfully approach them. 

Well, he had done the first, but he was having a bit of trouble with the second. He couldn't get near the bookshop. He didn't know why, but every time he tried, and made it anywhere near the front door, he found himself back to where he started from as if he had never walked towards the bookshop at all. So Ligur decided he would just have to wait for the angel to come out. 

The trouble was, the bloody angel never left. He suspected that due to his current associations, the angel was now using mirrors as his primary form of transport. And Ligur had no intention of trying to follow him there. That bloody place was a labyrinth of nightmares, and that was the opinion of someone who called literal Hell home. 

So Ligur waited. He lit a cigarette (one of his few chances to do so, as Hell was a no smoking area; something about it being particularly flammable) and fixed his eyes on the door. Though today, unlike all the days before it, the door opened.

The demon watched as the angel and one of the mirror wraiths, accompanied by the blonde human Ligur assumed they were keeping as a pet, stepped out into the cold London morning. 

Hastur dropped his cigarette, put it out with the toe of his boot, and began to follow. (He left the butt because he was a demon and littering was part of the job description.) 

It was perfect really: the angel and the mirror wraith who had helped him before. He had a much better chance of succeeding without Crowley around. He had a (very accurate) feeling that the demon would be less than amenable to the idea of sharing his Caregiver. 

The trio went into a shop, or “salon,” as the sign read. Ligur situated himself in another prime lurking spot, never taking his eyes off of the door where the angel had entered just moments before, and lit another cigarette as he began to plan.


	205. Chapter 205

Crowley was in a mood, and not a partularly nice one. It had all started when Aziraphale had, ever so gently, asked that Crowley not go with them to the nail appointment. It was, Aziraphale said, far too cold out for snakey Little demons who couldn't produce their own body heat. 

Crowley had pouted (though, if you asked him, he would have told you he made a much more dignified protest), but then Aziraphale had gotten all soppy by telling him how he worried about him, and only wanted what was best for him, and if he could please not get in anymore existence-threatening situations for at least the next decade.... Please? 

So Crowley relented. After they left he threw himself across the sofa and sulked about Eddie getting to go out with his angel while he was imprisoned inside like a prisoner! That is, until he rembered the entire thing had been his idea in the first place. 

He gave an exceptionally dramatic sigh which turned into more of a wheeze as he was accosted by a pair of mirror wraiths. 

“Do you want to play poltergeist dollies?”

“Its where we make the dollies float and...”

In a fit of irritation, Crowley shoved both twins off him. They didn't fall so much as float to the floor. 

“No,” Crowley grumped. “I'm not Little.”

The twins both scrunched up their faces in confusion. Then they shrugged in unison. “Fine,” they both said at once. 

“Jack's at ours, doing something with dead frogs and a clock.”

“Gregor is in the bookshop reading.”

“We'll be in our room playing if you change your mind.”

Crowley just grunted noncommittally and let his head fall back onto the sofa as he watched them leave. 

The demon laid on the sofa for a while. He was sleepy, but he didn't want to sleep. He wasn't quite Little or Big, and didn't really want to be either. He kind of wished he'd gone to play with the twins, but at the same time, for some reason, he was suddenly annoyed by them. The only thing that Crowley really wanted was to be outside. 

He was an outside snake, not an indoor one. He wanted trees and grass and other green, leafy things. He wanted to go on a walk and feed the ducks with his angel. He wanted to find a nice rock to sun himself on. 

He'd never been this awake during winter before, and as much as he wanted to spend time with his angel and his friends, he wasn't certian he liked it. Crowley sighed. Maybe it would be better if he just locked himself in the spare bedroom and slept until spring. 

He flopped over and groaned. He was bored and restless and sleepy all at the same time. Eventually, he pulled himself up with much moaning and groaning. For lack of anything better to do, he began to wander. 

He moved in and out of several boring, book and dust filled rooms. (The apartment was maybe a bit larger, and had a few more rooms than it ought to, for book storage purposes, of course.) Then Crowley opened a door to one of the sweetest sights that he had ever seen. 

Golden rays of sweet winter sunshine were feebly shining down on the plush Persian rug he rembembered his angel procuring ages ago. 

It wasn't a rock, but it would do. Crowley plucked a few decorative pillows from the sofa and threw them onto the rug. 

He then shucked off his (formerly Aziraphale's) sweater, then his black fuzzy knee socks, and threw them on the now empty sofa. He then wiggled out of his very thick diapers and plastic pants (which were only slightly damp) using the somewhat stretchy waistband to his advantage. 

He gave a happy little wiggle and looked down at his scrawny form. “Nakey snakey,” he giggled to himself. It felt good the be naked and feel the sun on his scales...errr, skin...once again.

He stretched out on the rug and layed his head on a pillow. He wasn't going to go to sleep, of course (and didn't this sound familiar), he would just lie here and bask for a while in the warmth. He only closed his eyes to improve the basking experience, and his thumb coming up to rest in his mouth was pure coincidence. He hugged a stray decorative pillow to his chest as his breathing evened out. He was only getting comfortable and resting his eyes, he wasn't the least bit sleepy anymore, the demon told himself with a yawn. 

However, soon the warm rays of sunshine were beating down upon a small, gangly Demon who was very asleep indeed.


	206. Chapter 206

Chapter 

Aziraphale stared at the demon seated across from him in the small coffee shop. Beside him, Eddie gave a small whine and burrowed further into Helena's lap, obviously uncomfortable with the current situation. 

The angel cleared his throat, “Ah, well, then?”

Ligur leaned over the table. “I know demons aren't well known for our honesty, but I'm going to be honest with you now. You are the only ones that are aware of Hastur being a Little. It is information that we do not wish to be public in Hell, for reasons that I can believe you can guess. Hastur has no one but me.”

"Errr...were you his Caregiver, you know, up there?” Aziraphale pointed a pudgy finger at the ceiling. 

“No. Hastur was alone in Heaven. He was an angel with no God-given purpose and not particularly desirable as a Little, and his own tendencies for anger and petulance did not make it any more so.”

“Oh,” said Aziraphale. “Oh, dear.”

“My dying,” Ligur very carefully didn't say ‘my murder caused by your Little,’ “was extremely difficult for Hastur. And I began to think of how he would be alone if I were to,” (here Ligur shuddered slightly), “be eradicated again. I don't want that. Having a Little of your own, you must understand?”

“I'm, uh...not certain I do. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t want my dear Crowley to be left alone if something...unfortunate were to happen to me. But I'm sure that Helena and the rest would step in to care for...oh! That's what you mean, isnt it? But surely not...surely not...me?”

Ligur nodded gravely. “I know that we all have...history with one another, but you are the only ones. No one in Hell can be trusted. I have no other options.”

“You must understand, Hastur kidnapped Crowley!” This whole conversation was feeling very surreal to the angel, and he had been having such a nice time at the salon, too. He had been making some sort of headway with Little Eddie. He'd even encouraged, and paid for, the dear boy to get streaks of black dyed into his blonde hair after he showed tentative interest. He had smiled and blushed when Aziraphale had assured him he looked most fetching. All and all, it had been a quite nice day, up until this point. 

“And Crowley killed me,” Ligur said, matter of factly. 

"And you don't hold any ill will for Crowley for your...errrr...what happened to you?”

“No. It was, quite simply, self defense. I understand that it may not be so easy for your Little to understand what Hastur did. But I hope that, in time, they may come to understand one another. Understand I do not expect this to come about anytime soon, but over time. I just wish for Hastur to have someone that he may depend on other than me.”

Ligur sat back and looked for all the world as if he was sitting before a tribunal awaiting judgment. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips. 

Helena placed a hand on Aziraphale's arm. “Maybe we should ask Crowley and, depending on his willingness, set up a very supervised meeting.”

“I don't like to think of a Little alone,” huffed Aziraphale, “but this is Hastur. He has done some,” here Aziraphale looked pointedly at Ligur, “more than questionable things.”

“He hurt Crowley,” came Eddie's rather timid voice. “I don't want him to hurt Crowley again.”

Ligur nodded and said with all seriousness. “He will not. He is very small at the moment, and I think will be for a while yet. Whatever you decide, know that no retribution will come from myself or Hastur.”

“I am somewhat sympathetic to your plight,” Aziraphale said. He was imagining Crowley, Little and alone in Hell. Aziraphale never could bear to see a Little suffer, and knew that if their fortunes were reversed, Aziraphale would do everything within his power to make certain that his baby was cared for under all circumstances. The angel sighed...first Gabriel and Beelzebub, now Ligur and Hastur. He really hadn't signed up for this. He'd imagined a quite retirement with his Little demon where absolutely no former bosses or coworkers showed up to trigger forgotten memories, or kidnap you, or ask for difficult, yet somewhat understandable, things.

Feeling quite out of sorts, the angel took a deep and unnecessary breath (though, technically, all breaths were unnecessary, as Aziraphale did not actually need to breath, it was just significantly more comfortable to do so). “I shall have to ask Crowley...and the twins, and Gregor, and Jack. We will all be involved in this. I will make no decisions without them. You understand what a...terrib...difficult position you place me in.”

“All that I can ask is that you consider it. I do not think we are so different to you in, the end.” Ligur than stood and nodded, then slunk out the doors to diasapear into the shadows. 

“Demons, they're not, uh...really evil, are they?” Eddie asked from his place snuggled into Helena's shoulder. “I mean, Crowley's really nice, and that guy just wanted to take care of that other demon, and the other demon, um...Haze-tor, or whatever, he was angry and mean, but like...for a reason. I mean, bad things happened to him and he got angry about it. That's not evil, is it? I've known people...uh...humans like that. Demons and angels, I guess, are just people. Things happen to them and they react. They're not at all like in the movies, anyway. Demons who want to cause suffering for no other reason than because they're demons and that's what they do. They're just kind of...normal.”

After he spoke Eddie flushed red, obviously wondering if he had said the wrong thing.

Aziraphale immediately softened. “That's very astute, my dear. And, I believe, very accurate.”

Aziraphale supposed he had been thinking of all demons in the same way. Crowley was, to him, an exception, a demon who was more then just a conduit for evil, but a thinking, feeling being. Now, the angel was faced with the ever more likely possibly that Crowley was not the exception, but the norm. That all of the demons who were currently suffering their eternities in Hell were, as Eddie had pointed out...people. People who he, and all of the other angels, had been expected to eradicate with all the care and reverence as one might a cockroach infestation. (On a side note, Aziraphale had never quite seen the point of cockroaches. Both their ability to live without their heads and the sheer amount of diseases they carried were, quite frankly, alarming. He suspected either some sort of design error, or Gabriel's involvement in their creation.) 

They sat in silence a few more moments, the staff and patrons not paying them any mind because Aziraphale didn't wish them to, before Eddie's tentitave voice once again spoke up. “Can we go home now?”

Pulled out of his maudlin revelations, the angel placed his hand gently on Eddie's head and stroked. He was very pleased when the human didn't flinch away. “Of course, my dear boy, of course.”


	207. Chapter 207

Hastur threw his toys to the side. Then he retrieved them and gently set them back to rights with a grudging apology. He flopped back on the floor with a “fuck.”

He definitely didn't miss that rat bastard Ligur. He was just...bored and restless. That was it, the almost house arrest, imposed on him by Lord Beelzebub and enforced by said rat bastard, was getting to him. That was all. 

He stood up. Ligur wasn't here. He could do what he wanted, he was going outside. He stood with every intention of changing clothes and going out. Then he paused.... What if Ligur came back while he was out? 

He didn't even really want to go out of the apartment. It wasn't like there were many entertaining places to go in Hell, and he certainly didn't have any friends to visit. He just wanted to go out because someone had told him not to. 

Hastur plopped down again. His diaper squished as he did so, but he wasn't in the mood to do anything about it. 

He built a block tower, then knocked it down, but the satisfying crash it made on the stone floor was less than satisfying. In a fit of irritation, he pushed his blocks away and they skittered noisily across the floor. 

He flopped back on his back and held his frog plushie aloft in front of his face. How long had it been since Ligur had left? Not, of course, that it mattered. 

He stared at the celing for a while. Then he grunted and grumbled as he got to his feet to pace the floor and wonder why the things you wanted took so much slower to get to you when you were thinking on them. Not, of course, that he wanted Ligur. 

Ligur could stay out as long as the bastard wanted. Hastur would stay here and...and...do paperwork. That's what he would do: paperwork. (It should be noted that in a exceptionally cruel and unusual addition to Hastur's punishment, Beelzebub had sent over the literal thousand years of back paperwork that Hastur had been avoiding.) 

He sat down at the table and found a pen. He flipped a page over at random. He squinted, then swore. Eventually he began to fill in answers, though they mostly consisted of things such as, “I don't know,” and “why the hell are you asking me this?”

He managed to almost fill out an entire page before he grew bored and frustrated, and threw the pen across the room. 

Why wasn't Ligur home yet? (Not that Hastur cared.) He was definitely going to pee on all of Ligur's things; all of them. 

Hastur gathered up his plushies and blanket and crawled into bed, laying his head on Ligur's pillow. He rumaged around in the bed for a pacifier and was rewarded with his favorite one. (It was green and unsurprisingly sported a picture of a frog.) He shoved it gracelessly in his mouth. 

He brought a fistful of ratty grey blanket up to rub over his face. With a little grunt, his diaper grew warm and wet and heavy. Hastur sighed and relaxed into the comforting feeling, drifting off into a fitful sleep, where he definitely didn't dream of Ligur burning in Holy water and never coming home. 

The familiar sound of the front door opening woke him up. Hastur jumped up and scurried to peek out of the bedroom into the hallway to see a familiar dark figure enter. As the figure continued down the hall, Hastur ran back to bed and pulled the covers over himself, turing to face the wall. 

He listened to Ligur's footsteps as he entered the room and walked towards the bed. He could feel the demon standing over him and staring. A hand was carded through Hastur's hair and a familiar voice washed over him. “Did you miss me , Little toad?”

Hastur grunted and rolled over to look at Ligur. “I didn't even notice you were gone.”

Ligur simply smiled, and for the first time since Ligur had left, Hastur relaxed.


	208. Chapter 208

Aziraphale was getting rather flustered. He had hoped, after the rather trying day he had had, to come to home to a cuddle from a Little demon happy to see him. Unfortunately, what he got was a hunt for an errant demon. 

He looked through rooms and rooms of books, often becoming distracted by something he had forgotten he owned. (After six thousand years, one did tend to amass a rather sizable collection.) He would then sit for a while, browsing the scroll or novel he'd long ago squirreled away, reminiscing over where he had gotten it, and who had wrtiien it, before once again remembering what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. Then, he would carefully place back whatever he had been reading and get up once again to look for his wayward love. Until he was inevitably, once again, distracted by another long forgotten treasure. Wash, rinse, and repeat. 

Needless to say, it was a little while before he found Crowley, and when he did he was not, altogether, too pleased. 

“My rug!” the angel exclaimed, inadvertently waking a rather grumpy demon. 

Crowley blinked slowly and sat up. He was sleepy and cold and wet, and his angel was standing in the doorway looking unhappily at him.

Aziraphale crossed his arms with a bit of a huff. “Couldn't you have kept your diaper on? Or, if you just had to be unclothed, put down something waterproof?”

Crowley didn't understand, until he looked down to see the huge wet spot he was lying in the middle of. Instead of the usual shame that this would bring, Crowley was just irritated. His head was fuzzy, and his eyelids were heavy, and he was cold, and he really, really wanted to go back to sleep. “Not my fault...stupid rug...go ‘way, angel.”

Aziraphale was rather irritated at Crowley's lack of respect for something that the demon knew was important to him. That rug had been a much cherished gift from a long dead human friend that he had kept in pristine condition these hundreds of years as a cherished momento. Crowley knew this; he'd been there when the rug was given to him. But even more irritating (and quite frankly hurtful) was Crowley telling him to go away. 

Aziraphale wasn't having this, especially after the day he had. He made his way over the demon to pick him up. 

Crowley, whose eyes had slipped closed once again, was startled by this and, in an amazing move of self defense, he began to flail his arms around in a beautiful imitation of the large inflatable tube people occasionally found in lots selling used cars.

This maneuver resulted in Crowley hitting Aziraphale in the face with one scrawny arm. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded, grabbing the offending apendage. “I won't tolerate violence. You shall sit in the corner and think about what you've done!” (Aziraphale did realize that calling the demon's flaling “violence” was more than a bit of a stretch, but, well...he'd had a rather long day, and just wanted a nice sit down and cuddle with his baby.) 

Aziraphale led Crowley over to the corner of the room and positioned the demon to face the wall. 

“You shall stay here and think about what you have done,” Aziraphale scolded. He almost gave in and pulled his naughty baby out of the corner when Crowley let out a little whine. But the angel shook himself, he had to be strong. He needed to be a strong, firm presence for his baby. Crowley was probably growing comfortable enough with him to experiment with their relationship, testing boundaries, and being naughty, and seeing how Aziraphale would react, and the angel was determined to do a good job of it. Aziraphale wold stay firm to Crowley's punishment, then he would forgive his sweet little snake, and they would both have a nice cuddle. 

Aziraphale preformed a small miracle to clean his Persian rug and made his way out of the room with one look back towards Crowley. “Now, I expect you to stay facing that corner, you naughty thing,” he waggled a chubby finger that Crowley couldn't see at the demon's back. Then he turned and shut the door with a heavy whump. 

The sound pierced Crowley's sleep-muddled mind. And what had he done? He'd ruined his angel's favorite rug and then he'd hit him.... He'd struck his angel.... Crowley slid down to the floor with a thump. 

He'd tried so hard to be good for his angel and he was succeeding. For once in his existence he had something good and was managing to keep it. Yet, in one moment of irritation, he'd managed to ruin it all. Aziraphale had left here and he probably wasn't ever coming back. Crowley wouldn't, if he was his angel. Why should Aziraphale come back for a disgusting baby who peed all over his favorite rug because he couldn't keep his diapers on? A baby who'd struck his beautiful, angelic face like the unforgivable brat he was. Crowley would be in this corner until his corporation faded into dust, and he would deserve it. 

Crowley brought up his knees to his chest and gently began to rock back and fourth in an attempt to sooth himself. Being naked no longer felt fun and freeing, he longed for the comforting embrace of a thick diaper and an angel. The demon placed his head between his knees as he began to sob.


	209. Chapter 209

Hasur pawed greedily at Ligur's clothing, trying to reach the bags held aloft in his hands. Ligur waggled a finger in the Little demon’s face. 

“Ah, ah, ah...Little toad. Sit down and close your eyes, and then you can have your surprises.”

Hasur grudgingly plopped down on the bed and scowled. Though he obliged and closed his eyes. He felt things being piled on his lap. And when Ligur finally told him he could open his eyes, Hastur wasted no time in tearing open the array of brightly colored packages and boxes. 

Ligur had gotten him a huge, fat plush toad that croaked whenever you squeezed it; a smaller frog plush that rattled when you shook it and had lots of ribbon tags sewn in - perfect for sticking in his mouth, and a special place to attach a pacifier or chew toy. The absolute best thing, though, was another frog, but this one wasn't plush, it was heavy with soft textured plastic skin. Ligur patiently showed his rather impatient Little toad how to make the robotic toy hop and croak and stick out his long tounge and nuzzle Hatur's hand. (It should be noted that the toy should have needed batteries. Ligur, however, did not know what batteries were and simply expected the frog to do what the package said it would, whether or not he placed small metal cylinders in it.) 

Usually, Hastur only got one present when Ligur went out. The sudden gifting of three, obviously carefully picked out, presents made Hastur's eyes narrow in suspicion. 

Ligur, sensing the suspicion radiating off his Little toad, pulled him into his lap. “I had hoped to ask you something.”

And there it was...

“What?” Hastur growled. 

Ligur pushed white hair off of Hastur's forehead so that he could place a gentle kiss on it. He then placed a kiss on the toad perched on Hastur's head, because the poor thing looked a little put out at not reciving his own kiss. “I want to do something that I know that you will not like. I won't proceed if you say no, but Hastur, Little toad, I would like very much if you would trust me with this.”

Hastur didn't like this one bit. There was too little information, and Ligur had just said he wasn't going to like whatever the thing was that Ligur wanted to do. What if what Ligur wanted to do was get rid of him? Or maybe he wanted to stop indulging this...thing...that they were doing. Hastur placed his thumb in his mouth and, with a small grunt, began to flood his diaper once again. The warmth spread from his crotch to his bottom and then up his back and down his thighs as his sodden diaper and plastic pants could hold no more and began to leak.

The demon carefully turned to examine Ligur's face for any sign of irritaion or disgust, any sign that Ligur was finally ready to leave. But Ligur just raised a dark eyebrow. “You didn't miracle your special pants dry at all today, did you?” he asked, poking at Hastur's thick diaper, which was sagging rather badly now within the confines of his plastic pants and overalls. 

Hastur didn't answer, just grunted and wiggled on Ligur's now soaking lap away from the poking fingers. 

Ligur relented, and just shook his head as he smiled. “Well, let's get you clean, baby. How 'bout a bath?”

“Not baby,” Hastur ground out and glared. (He was going for intimidating, but missed by a mile and ended up quite firmly in the territory of adorable.) “But...yes bath.”

“Whatever you say,” Ligur smiled again, wider this time, and tapped Hastur on the nose. “And I should like you to know that whatever terrible things you are thinking aren't true, and whatever happens, whatever you decide, I will always be with you if I can.”

Then, as if he had never spoken, he hoisted a still wet Hastur onto his hip so that he could begin to prepare the bath, seemingly unbothered by the fact he was just further drenching himself in toad demon piss. Hastur laid his head on Ligur's shoulder. 

During his bath he paused in the middle of making a rubber turtle and a rubber frog fight to death. (The frog would, of course, win. Hastur liked turtles, but he liked frogs better.) He let his pacifier drop from his mouth into the tub. He turned to Ligur, who had paused in his task of washing Hastur's hair. He leaned back, his bare forearms resting on the edge of the tub, and waited for whatever it was that his Little toad wanted to do. 

“I'll do it, whatever the fuck it is,” Hastur grumbled, staring down at his pale hands still holding his toys. Then he quickly fished his pacifier out of the water and stuck it back in his mouth. Then he went back to his amphibious battle. 

The matter wasn't mentioned again until they were both tucked into bed. Ligur had stripped himself of most of his layers of clothing and Hastur was thickly diapered in grey, lizard themed pajamas. The Little toad was lying on his back surrounded by his plushies, and his toad and Ligur's lizard were resting happily on the demon's chest. Ligur lay an arm over Hastur's belly, under the curled up creatures, and squeezed. He buried his head in white hair and, after a long few moments, whispered, “thank you for trusting me.” Hastur just grunted and pretended he hadn't heard Ligur's soppy confession, but he wiggled closer into the stupid demon's embrace anyway.


	210. Chapter 210

Aziraphale whistled a jaunty tune as he ran hot water in the bath. He poured liberal amounts of sweet, baby smelling bubble bath in and made sure to dump in all of his baby's growing collection of bath toys. 

The angel laid out one of Crowley's thickest night time diapers, then a cloth diaper, and the demon's babiest plastic pants. (They were pink with little yellow ducks and technically belonged to one of the twins, but, well...Crowley liked ducks, and the twins had never asked for them back.) He also laid out Crowley's star-covered footie pajamas and a matching star-covered pacifier. (Aesthetics were important to his Little demon, and what was important to his baby was important to him.) He was hoping to coax his baby to be well...a baby tonight. He felt rather out of sorts and there was nothing that calmed him quite like a quiet evening snuggling up with a sweet, sleepy baby. 

As he walked down the hall to the room he had left his naughty snake in, he thought of all the pleasant things they would do. After the bath, he would diaper his darling joy and feed him a warm bottle. Then maybe read a story, or, if Crowley wanted to, maybe watch some television. Though, Aziraphale thought, something that wasn’t particularly loud and bright. 

He opened door, pleased to note that his dearest boy hadn't moved from the corner in which he was put. Though the rocking back and forth was a bit odd.... Aziraphale had only ever seen him do that when he was crying...and oh...oh! 

Aziraphale hurried over to his baby to pluck him from the corner. As soon as he was lifted, Crowley began to wail loudly and in ernest. He clung to the angel, rather excessively squeezing him around the pudgy middle, and sobbed. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, pleasedon'tleavemepapa, I’m sorrrry, I'll be good.”

Aziraphale patted Crowley's back. “Really, what's all this fuss for? It was only a little time out.”

But Crowley's tearless sobs just grew louder and more agonized. The angel was beginning to become properly worried. He carried his sobbing demon back to their bedroom and sat on the bed, grabbing a blanket to wrap around Crowley's naked, trembling form. 

He stoked the demon's cheek. “Crowley, darling, I really need you to tell me why you're so upset.”

It took time, but eventually Crowley stopped sobbing long enough to answer. “Ipeedonyourrugandwasnaughtyandyouleftbecauseyoudon’twantabaddemonandI’msorrypapaIwon’tdoitagain!”

All that was rather impressively said in one breath, but from what Aziraphale could gather Crowley thought that Aziraphale no longer wanted him because Crowley had soiled his rug, then Aziraphale had placed him in time out and left. Oh, now that he thought of it, that must have looked rather bad from the baby's perspective, didn't it? Aziraphale hadn't even said how long the corner time was to last. 

“Darling, I'm very, very sorry.”

“Why?” Crowley sniffled. “Is this the talk? Are we...going our seperate ways? I'm sorry, angel, I'll get you a new rug; a better rug; all the rugs you want! I'll potty train! I'll be good...angel...papa...please...please....” Crowley clutched at Aziraphale's waist coat. 

“Crowley, Crowley...my darling baby.” He clutched a thin hand with his own chubby one. “I meant that I'm so very sorry to have left you there. Yes, I'm a little cross. Not even so much that you were naked, but that you knew what would happen if you went without your diapers and you didn't put down anything to protect a rug you knew had, well...rather sentimental value to me. It’s nothing to be so upset over, and I certainly won't turn you out the second you do something that displeases me...but, Crowley, I do think we need to have a bit of a talk about punishments.”

Crowley's eyes widened and he looked up at his angel with traces of fear in his yellow eyes. “Punishments?” the demon meekly echoed. 

“It obviously upset you, darling, when I put you in the corner and left. I want to know how to make punishments less...well...horrendous for you. They shouldn’t leave you in such a state as you are now, darling. So what would you like me to change? Do you not want to do corner time anymore? I know that you definitely don't want to be spanked.” 

Crowley shook his head vigorously. “No spankie snakie.” (And dear Go...Someone, Aziraphale just melted at that. Crowley was the cutest thing in existence and he would not be convinced otherwise.)

Crowley thought for a moment. “No leave?”

“You don't want me to leave when you’re in time out?”

Crowley nodded. “I wanna see you.”

“Ah...how about I place down one of your changing mats and you’re not allowed to leave that for the duration of your punishment, but you're free to move and watch me, and I shall always stay in the room. How is that, dear boy?” 

Crowley, his eyes half closed, nodded. “Ssss good, papa. Thank you, ssssorry I wassss naughty.”

Aziraphale kissed his baby on the forehead. “All is forgiven, my dearest little demon.” 

The angel felt that there were quite a few more things he would like to have ironed out with Crowley, for he hated being the cause of his baby's distress, but he thought that they could wait just a bit longer. Crowley was very small and sleepy, and a faint hissing sound and a growing warmth on his lap told him that he should have probably taken the time before then to have diapered his little nudist.

Ah, well, the angel thought, it was no matter. They would have all the time in the world together if he had anything to say about it. And, eventually, if by the law of probability alone, they would get this right. Aziraphale placed another kiss on his poor, overwrought baby's forehead. However long it took.


	211. Chapter 211

Crowley had perked up a bit in the hot bath, at least enough to splash around with his growing army of rubber duckies while Aziraphale gently scrubbed him with pleasant, baby smelling soaps. 

The rather sleepy demon was then plucked from the bath water, powdered, diapered, dressed, and wrapped snugly in a blanket. Aziraphale, baby demon in hand, made his way to the kitchen, determined to get a bottle into his Little's tummy before they both retired for the night. When left to his own devices, the demon's eating habits were, quite frankly, terrible, and with everything that had happened to them lately, Aziraphale felt it was more import than ever to keep up the strength of Crowley's corporation. 

He passed Gregor in the sitting room, who was, as usual, quietly reading. Though unlike usual, he was doing it under a pile of sleeping twins and dolls. 

Aziraphale retrieved a warm bottle of creamy vanilla milk for Crowley and a cup of cocoa for himself, (both with more than a hint of vodka, because, well, it had been quite a day all around, hadn't it?) and sat down beside Gregor and the twins. 

Aziraphale maneuvered the Little demon into the optimum position for bottle drinking and sighed as Crowley, without even bothering to open his eyes, latched and began to gently suck. 

Gregor placed a bookmark in his book and eyed the angel thoughtfully. “What is wrong?”

“Well, it's only.... It's been a rather long day, you see, and Crowley and I had a slight incident earlier...and oh, well...it's rather silly....” 

“Yet it is causing you worry.”

“Most things do,” Aziraphale sniffed self depreciatingly. 

Gregor just continued to look at Aziraphale in a way that somehow simultaneously made the angel relax and squirm. 

“It's just...I have this terrible feeling. A sort of, well...premonition, if you will, that something is happening.”

Gregor looked interested; he tilted his head in that odd, inhuman manner all the mirror wraiths did, still staring at the angel. “Something is always happening somewhere, angel Aziraphale.”

The angel huffed out a laugh. “Yes, I do suppose it is. Only it's that I feel as if this were a novel, and we were the characters in it, it would be something that was quite relevant to our story lines indeed.”

“Ah,” Gregor nodded, “and this worries you?”

Aziraphale, who had been busy side eyeing a doll clutched in one of the twin’s grasps that he was certain had just growled at him, scoffed. “Of course obscure, terrible things that might happen worry me. Don't they worry you?”

Gregor looked thoughtful. “Once, when I first came to live with Jack and Helena and the twins, I was wandering and happened to walk into a room that had a bit of.... What do you call it? Ah, yes, ‘pure nothingness’ in place of a floor. I fell for a rather long time. So long, in fact, that I began to wonder if I would spend the rest of my existence falling or if I would ever see Helena or Jack or the twins again. It was not particularly pleasant, but do you know where I landed?”

“I couldn't guess,” said Aziraphale.

“I landed in a room with stacks upon stacks of books: many, I might add, that I have never read; some that I cannot read because they are in writings I cannot read, but that is neither here nor there. Do you understand what I am saying?” 

“Oh,” replied Aziraphale, “I'm sorry, dear, but not a bit.” 

“The fall was unpleasant and unexpected, but it resulted in something pleasant that would not have happened otherwise.”

“Ahhh,” said Aziraphale, who wasn't keen on the idea of falling - literally or metaphorically. He stroked Crowley's hair as the demon made sweet little snuffling noises while he finished his bottle. “I can only hope, that after this is all said and done, we all end up somewhere as pleasant as your room of books.”

After a pause the angel added, “...which you will show me sometime, won't you?”


	212. Chapter 212

The Archangel Gabriel's immaculately shined shoes didn't dare to squeak as he walked with purposeful strides down the well polished floors of the hallway. This place was what all churches, all mosques, all cathedrals, any place that paid homage to God, was fashioned after. 

Over the centuries it had taken many forms. It had been a pillared temple, and a great ornate palace, but now it had taken the form of a sleek, minimalist art gallery. In each golden frame adorning the white walls was depicted a different image of God's many triumphs: the creation of Heaven, the angels, Earth, the humans, the casting out of Lucifer, the Great Flood, giving the commandments to Moses, the burning of Sodom and Gahmmorah, delivering Jesus unto the humans, and that one time she sent bears to maul 42 children to death for making fun of a bald guy, to name a few. 

Gabriel, however, paid no attention to these as he kept walking to end of the great hall. The largest and most impressive piece hung here. It was not a painting, exactly, but a living impression of God Herself. It pulsed and fluctuated with life, and appeared differently to all who saw it because God was everything, all things to all people, or so Gabriel had believed. Now, standing before this representation of God, he found it to look darker and far more ominous than it ever had before. The Archangel steeled himself and looked up at the roiling storm before him, feeling the powers that pulsed off of it. It wasn't God Herself, but it was the closest Gabriel knew how to get to her. 

He cleared his throat. “God...Your, er...Majesty, it has come to my attention that some of the things you have done...the decisions that you have made, are....”

He paused long on this word, hesitating even now. “Questionable,” he finished. "Also, Lucifer may not have been as terrible as I have previously believed. So I would like...I would like for you to...well, you don't have to answer, but if you would just speak to me. I'm sure that if I heard your side...that things would become clearer. You must have had reasons for doing what you did, and I know that you didn't deign to tell Lucifer, but a bit of time has passed, and well...it's me isn't it? It’s the Archangel Gabriel, your favorite.”

Gabriel smiled his best, widest smile, but it lacked quite the same wideness and sincerity that it had once had.

Gabriel waited and waited, he might have stood there for hours or even days. Time wasn't nearly as linear in Heaven as it was on Earth. Gabriel wasn't the most patient of creatures, he liked things to be taken care of sooner than immediately. It was rather agonizing, the waiting, but the Archangel was determined. God hadn’t been very vocal for a little while, but what was a couple thousand years to a God? She'd probably just lost track of time. So Gabriel waited and waited and waited, and as he waited, he grew more and more on edge. 

“Why won't You speak to me? I've always done all You asked! You sit up there and manipulate our lives and You won't even speak to me! Why? Why? Why?”

In one very passionate, and very stupid, move, Grabriel drew back and struck the image of God. 

He was immediately thrown halfway across the hall. 

He lay on his back and stared at the white ceiling for a long time. The eyes of his corporation began to burn and he didn't know what that was about at all. “I don't feel You anymore,” he said to the ceiling. “I know You no longer speak to us, but I don't feel Your presence like I used to. Are You even there? Have You abandoned us like you abandoned Raphael and Lucifer and all those humans you killed?”

He squeezed his eyes together against the intense burning. “Are You even there?” he screamed at the ceiling. He let his head fall back on the hard floor. “Are You even there?”

He lay on the floor in silence for a while, bringing a slightly trembling hand up to his corporation's face to find it wet. Maybe it was a divine punishment. Maybe he was Falling. Strangley enough, he found that slightly less frightening than the alternative: that nothing was happening, because that would mean that God, in fact, was no longer there to punish him.


	213. Chapter 213

Unless it was the actual Apocalypse this time, Beelzebub was going to do unspeakable things to whoever was pounding on her fucking door while she had been sleeping. Her fly buzzed in agreement and flicked it's wings, repositioning itself on her head. 

She pulled her silk robe around her as she plodded grumpily to the door. She yanked it opened and the “what the fuck do you want?” died on her tounge when she saw who was on the other side. The Archangel Gabriel stood there, looking worse than Beelzebub had ever seen him. His impeccable grey clothing was rumpled, his hair was sticking up, and his eyes were reddened. 

Beelzebub made a face. “Have you been crying?”

But the angel didn’t answer her, he just pushed his way passed the confused demon and collapsed on her couch. 

She stood over him and crossed her arms, irritated. 

Gabriel turned one bloodshot eye on her. “I think I might Fall.”

Beelzebub sighed and sank into her chair, which creaked dangerously in protest (though it wouldn't dare to break.) “What the fuck have you done?”

“I think I questioned God.”

Beelzebub pinched the bridge of her nose and resisted the urge to go and slam her head repeatedly in the door. 

“What do you mean ‘think’?”

“I'm not certain I actually talked to God. I'm not certain She's in Heaven anymore.”

Tears began to roll down down the Archangel's face, and Beelzebub didn't know what the Hell to do with that. 

In a very small voice, much unlike his usual one, Gabriel asked, “Could I stay with you for a while?”

What Beelzebub wanted to say was no, but what she ended up saying was, “Not on my sofa. There is an empty apartment to the right.” (The last occupant had disappeared under circumstances that were less than mysterious.) 

“You're a good friend,” Gabriel sighed. He'd never used the word friend in conjunction with Beelzebub before, but, he realized, that's what she was. 

“I'm not your friend, I'm just keeping my enemies close,” she replied, but it had none of her usual bite. If she had the ability to, she might almost feel sorry for Gabriel, almost. She remebered, keenly and painfully, how it had felt to Fall: the absolute fear and devastation of having everything you had ever known, down your memories, taken from you. 

She walked over to the large glass decantor that she kept on the sideboard and poured two glasses. She handed one to Gabriel who just held it awkwardly, not quite certain what he was supposed to do with it. 

He'd make a terrible demon, thought Beelzebub, but he was brimming with interesting and potentially useful information, and the great idiot needed a place to say. What was she saying? It was better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven. Not that Gabriel would be doing any ruling, that was her area. 

She sat down and sipped at her drink, feeling it burn it’s way down her thoat. She narrowed her eyes at the pathetic angel before her. “So, tell Uncle Beelzebub everything.”


	214. Chapter 214

Helena crossed her arms. “Angel Aziraphale.”

“Do you think that Eddie would like this?” he asked, gesturing one pudgy hand towards the ancient computer screen, which was now sporting a rather blurry image of a fuzzy panda onesie.

“He'd love it, sweetheart, but....” 

“And these!” Aziraphale interrupted, clicking rapidly to bring up photos of horror dolls that came in their own little coffins. “I think the twins would like the conjoined twins, or maybe those twins from that film about the hotel, or maybe....” 

“Angel Aziraphale....”

“And I've already gotten Crowley the most lovely little....” 

“Angel Aziraphale!” Helena crossed her arms and sighed. “Have you asked Crowley yet?”

The angel leaned away from Helena to fuss with a stack of books placed by the computer. “Ah...well, I....you see, some things have come up, and I just, well....”

“I shall take that as a ‘no.’ The Little demon Crowley deserves to have input on this, angel Aziraphale. He deserves to know.”

“I know. It’s just that, well, it’s rather difficult, you see, and....”

Helena placed a reasuring hand on the angel's shoulder. “Why don't we go ask him now? He's awake and playing with the twins and Eddie. I'm certain that being with the twins will make the conversation a little better.” (Or much worse, Helena thought, you never quite knew with the twins.) 

With the air of one walking to the gallows, Aziraphale stood from his chair and walked to the sitting room with Helena behind him. 

All of the Littles were wriggling and laughing in a pile of blankets and toys. Aziraphale melted at just how happy and free they all looked, especially his dearest Little demon and sweet Eddie, who were usually so terribly self conscious. They were playing without a care in the world.... Aziraphale couldn't do this. He couldn't ruin this moment for Crowley, he'd tell him later; yes, definitely later. 

He turned around to leave, but ran right into Helena. The mirror wraith fixed him with a looked that made him pivot back around. 

He took a deep breath, very aware of the presence behind him, and walked forward. He cleared his throat. Four little faces stared up at him. 

“Crowley, dear, dearest boy, I...well...I have something to ask you....”


	215. Chapter 215

“Remember when we went to the shop, dear, the, um...one for Littles? Well...I saw Ligur there....”

Here, Aziraphale was interrupted by a hiss from wide eyed Crowley, who was clutching excessively tightly to his blankie. “He didn't hurt you, did he, angel?”

Aziraphale smiled down at his protective, if not terribly bright, Little snake. “No dear, he was looking for some things for his Little.”

Ligur had a Little? Crowley could almost see it. Ligur was a somewhat quiet, but all and all decent sort, (for a demon) as far as Crowley could tell. He'd never seen him with anyone he thought might be a Little, though. He wondered if Hastur knew...probably. They were always together. “Do you know who it isss?”

“Ah, yes, dear,” Aziraphale twiddled with his thumbs, deliberately not looking at Crowley. “You do remember Hastur, don't you?”

“No. He isn't! Hastur isn't a Little! He's the opposite of a Little! He's terrible, and he kidnapped me, twice, and he smells like a fermenting swamp!”

“I'm afraid he is, dear, though, like you, he's been quite discreet for some time. But now, due to errr...recent events, he's currently quite Little and Ligur wants to try and form a...relationship with the only other beings who know that Hastur is a Little, which is, well...us, dear.”

Crowley narrowed his snakey eyes. “And. You. Told. Him. No. Right? Right, Aziraphale?”

“I told him I would consult you.”

“Then tell him I said ‘no!’” Crowley's voice rose to a rather alarming pitch on the word ‘no.’ 

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “I do wish you would at least consider it.”

Crowley crossed his arms and flopped back against Eddie (who let out a grunt as Crowley's head made contact with his soft midsection). “I can't,” sniffed the demon. “I'm too baby.” 

Aziraphale was unamused. He, too, crossed his arms and began tapping one oxford clad foot against the hardwood floor. 

“Crowley, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, but this is rather important to me. To quote Phillip Larken: ‘man hands on misery to man, it deepens like a costal shelf.’ Quite frankly, I'm tired of it! I've had thousands of years of it. I just want us all to stop making each other so miserable. I think that if Gabriel, of all people, can make efforts to become slightly less revolting, then so can Hastur and Ligur. I'm just asking that we try, Crowley. That we try to make things better.”

Crowley screwed up his face. He was conflicted. He didn't want to see Hastur ever again, but he didn't want his angel to think that he didn't care about the things he wanted to do. Even if he thought that those things were foolish and idealistic. 

Aaannnddd, he had let Gabriel in their home. Which he knew his angel only tolerated because it had been something that Crowley had wanted. 

In the end, it was the twins who made up his mind. They both flopped onto him, their pointy chins digging into his belly. “Don't worry, Crowley,” one said. “If the other demon is mean to you again we'll make him sorry.” 

“Really sorry.”

Crowley liked the sound of that. He really wanted to see the twins go full out scary wraith-y on Hastur. And this way he could humor his angel as well. Then, when Hastur was terible, and Crowley knew he would be, (it was Hastur, after all, and Crowley was certain that there was nothing about that demon that wasn’t horrid, no matter what his too forgiving angel had been suckered into believing) Crowley would get the pleasure of seeing the bastard discorporated by the twins. 

“Fine,” Crowley said, still pouting, because he was a petty demon, “but only once, and I don’t have to be nice.”

“I'm so proud of you, dear boy,” said Aziraphale as he stared soppily at his Little demon, even though he had heard what the twins had said, as well as seen the wicked smile that had crept across his naughty demons face afterwards. He was, after all, standing right there. But, well, Crowley was trying, whatever his ulterior motives, and Aziraphale could admit he was a little soft for his sneaky snake. “Just try not to be terrible, dear, and if things don't go well you shall never have to see either of them again. You will always come first.”

He leaned over the pile of twins and toys to gently boop Crowley on the nose. 

Smiling, he wandered off back to the computer with every intention of finding his baby a nice gift for being such a delightful boy. 

He really did hope that this all went well. He had hopes that maybe they could all come to some sort of...arrangement, and put all the dreadful things that had happened in the past. Ligur seemed alright (for a demon) and, while Aziraphale would happily give Hastur more than a few good smacks across the backside for the trouble he had caused Crowley, the angel had something of a sympathy to the Little. He had seen what all those years alone and hiding had done to his baby, and he imagined that Hastur had not fared much better. 

Aziraphale was hopeful, at least when he ignored the lingengering feelings of doom and dread, that this would all work out in the end.


	216. Chapter 216

“No!” Hastur crossed his arms and stamped his feet. He looked very much like what he was: a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

Ligur raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“I'm not wearing diapers out! Fuck, no! I don't need them!”

The strategist that he was, Ligur had already planned for this. He leaned back and surveyed his Little toad, who was currently protesting his need for diapers wearing nothing but a very wet and sagging diaper and a pair of plastic pants. The demon shrugged. “Fine,” he said. 

Hastur's face scrunched up in confusion. He...wasn't expecting that. “Fine?” he repeated. “Fine? What the fuck do you mean, fine!?”

“You said you don't need to wear diapers. I believe you. No more diapers, then, from now on.”

“No more special pants...ever?” Hastur's voice came out small and strange. 

“Nope,” said Ligur, who knew he had his Little toad. Hastur liked his diapers, though he wouldn't admit it upon pain of discorporation. “No more special pants from now on. After all, you don't need them.”

Ligur could see the conflict in his Little toad's mind, and, while immensely amusing, he didn't want to make his baby suffer any more than he needed to. So he gave him an out. 

“How about this,” Ligur patted the changing mat, “if you lay down, I'll put your special pants on you, and if you don't, you'll never have to wear them again.”

There was a pause, then Hastur slowly walked over and laid on the changing mat. 

“My good Little toad,” Ligur patted Hastur's pale tummy, then set about thickly diapering the demon. He wanted Hastur to be always aware that he was heavily padded. He thought that it would keep Hastur distracted from doing his usual mischief. He had noticed that Hastur was far calmer when he was diapered, and he really hoped that would hold true when they went out. 

He pulled the turtle printed plastic pants up over Hastur's thick diapers and clicked the little lock shut. 

“Hey! What the fuck's that?” growled Hastur, looking down at the fine chain and small lock attached to the cheerily patterned pants. 

“I don't want you sneaking away and taking your special pants off today. I know you could still miracle them off, but if you do without telling me, I will spank you, in front of anyone who's present.” (Ligur wouldn't really, but Hastur didn't know that, and, for all their sakes, he needed the Little demon to behave today. Which meant no angry toady piddles on anyone's person or belongings.) 

Hastur grumped and grumbled, but he didn't say anything. He just laid there with all the movement of a corpse, giving Ligur absolutely no help whatsoever as he dressed him. Ligur had purposely picked out a pair of black pants and a very oversized grayish-green sweater that would cover any diaper buldge that showed through the pants. Ligur wanted to keep Hastur feeling Little, but he didn't want him to feel humiliated. He wasn't certain that Hastur would ever be ready to be Little in public, even if it was only the human public who would be dead only a scant few months after they'd seen the Little toad. (It should be noted that Ligur did not have the best grasp of the human lifespan.) 

He slipped a pair of socks patterned with happy green frogs on Hastur's feet because Hastur looked adorable in them, and Ligur couldn't resist. Then he tugged on his boots and tied them, covering the the smiling frogs faces with black leather. 

He helped Hastur with his coat as well, and then coaxed him to pick out a couple of plushies to stick in his pockets. (Hastur had already shoved his blankey in his coat pocket, which had been a habit he had had ever since Ligur had known him, and, he suspected, even before that. Hastur would occasionally shove his hand into the pocket of his coat and rub the blanket between his fingers. It was absolutely adorable, not that Ligur would ever dare to tell Hastur that.) 

Ligur had a discreet leather bag packed with bottles, and diapers, and other Hastur care supplies. The demon placed a firm hand on his Little's back and led him out the door. 

Hastur looked slightly relieved when they popped up in a secluded spot in a London park, though he looked significantly less relieved when he saw who opened the door of the building Ligur had led him to. 

Hastur recognized the cheery angel at once, and as soon as he turned to lead them further into the bookshop, Hastur grabbed Ligur's hand. His blunt nails painfully dug into Ligur's skin. He yanked the demon uncomfortably close to him so that he could hiss in his ear, “Absolutely not! Has being dead scrambled the few brain cells that you had? What the fuck!”

“You said you would trust me,” replied Ligur, quite unconcerned as he shrugged out of the pale demon's grip and began to follow the chubby angel, who had vanished around a shelf of books. 

Hastur stood in the doorway and grumbled something unintelligible, that was probably very rude, and made even more unflattering observations about the current state of Ligur's intelligence. Then he crossed his arms and headed back towards the door, resolute to go back home and leave Ligur to his fate. 

This resolution lasted all of five seconds, as Hastur turned back around, growling “wait for me,” as he sprinted after Ligur.


	217. Chapter 217

Hastur and Crowley were both perched protectively in their respective Caregiver’s laps, doing all but snarling at one another. Hastur had been rather reluctant to sit on Ligur's lap in front of anyone, but in the end he had decided that it was the best, most tactical place to sit in order to protect his stupid demon from any attacks. It also had the advantage of putting him in the ideal place to glare daggers at the slimy flash bastard who had, for a while, ruined Hastur's existence. (Not that Ligur was that important to him...at all...in any way.... It was the principal of the matter.) 

Aziraphale tried unsuccessfully to break the tension. He cleared his throat. “So the weather today, very...weather-y...isn't it?”

“Ahhh, yes...very...weather-y,” Ligur answered, tightening his grip around Hastur's waist for fear that he would pounce on the other Little. 

Helena rolled her eyes, though Jack found it perfectly sensible conversation. The weather was, in fact, very weather-y. 

Several more tense minutes passed. The twins sighed in unison. They didn't mind that Crowley and the new white haired demon didn't like each other, but they wished they would dislike each other in a less boring way. 

They shared a look, communicating without words. Each twin stood up to go and tug at a Little demon. “Come on! Let's go play in the living room,” they each told their respective demon. 

“I don't want to leave him alone with Aziraphale,” Crowley sniffed at Ligur. 

“And I don't want to leave him with Ligur,” Hastur growled, gesturing at Aziraphale. 

“Hastur, why don't you go? I will be fine.”

“No,” said Hastur 

“Why don't we all sit in the living room?” Helena interjected. “That way the Littles can play, yet we can all see one another to make certain that nothing happens.” 

The Littles seemed to find this suggestion tolerable, so the twins dragged both demons over to the pile of dolls they kept there. (Eddie followed along after them.) Dolls were shoved in both demon's hands and the twins proceeded to attempt to engage them in play. 

It didn't work particularly well. Hastur just looked disdainfully down at the dolls placed in his hands, and Crowley looked equally disdainfully at Hastur. They occasionally paused in disdainful staring to look back at their Caregivers. Ligur and Aziraphale seemed to be faring much better than the Littles, as they were engaged in quiet and quite civil-seeming conversation with the mirror wraiths.

Eventually, Crowley was lured into the story that the twins were weaving and began to play. Hastur couldn't care less, (or so he told himself, he couldn't help it if the weird twins actually came up with interesting storylines) until he spied a small, doll-sized metal pot in a pile of doll clothes and accessories. In one quick motion he reached forward, snatched the pot, and threw it at the doll Crowley was holding. With a small demonic miracle, water poured out of the pot and drenched Crowley's doll. 

“It was holy water,” Hastur smirked. “Now your doll is dead.”

Crowley didn't like this. He really didn't like this. He looked down at the doll in his hand, which now had a rather irritated look on it's little porcelain face that Crowley was certian it didn't have before. He looked back up into the ugly, smirking face of Hastur and set down the doll. Then, in one swift movement, he lunged at Hastur, fangs extended, going for the throat.


	218. Chapter 218

It is very important to note here that neither demon was actually any good at fighting. 

Crowley could swing wildly at things and bite, and that was the extent of his fighting skills. 

Hastur usually just hit people over the head, (preferably from behind) then kicked them a few times to leave impressive bruises, and made up some fantastical story about how he had used his awe-inspiring battle prowess. After a few such “fights” in the early days of Hell, Hastur found that no one bothered him anymore. 

Hastur had inadvertently discovered that when everyone thought you were fearsome you didn't need to prove it. So Hastur managed to scrape and claw his way up the ladder of Hell with increasingly more outlandish lies, and a handful of actual skills at other things. 

In this particular instance, Hastur managed to scrape enough sense together to duck out of the way of Crowley's outstretched hands and fanged maw. Crowley thumped to the floor and scrambled back up, his black polished fingernails clinking on the wood. Then he lunged again for Hastur, this time landing on his intended target, though not able to sink his fangs into any of the fleshy bits of Hastur's corporation as the demon in question had shoved his hand in Crowley's face and was using all his strength to keep the venom-dripping fangs as far away from his person as possible. 

Hastur stuck out his uncomfortably long tounge and struck Crowley in the eye. He thought this might be a fatal blow, but it only seemed to anger Crowely and he renewed his attempts to bite Hastur and inject him with as much venom as possible - very, very literally. 

The twins, for their part, were a little confused. They knew what real fighting looked like and this...wasn't it. It lacked any sort of ripping off of limbs or gouging out of eyes. It far more resembled the roughhousing that they often did with one another, the kind of play that they had long ago decided that Crowley (and later Eddie) was far too delicate for. Obviously, they wanted to play too, but in a way that wouldn't hurt the demons. So, without words, they decided on their course of action. 

One twin slithered up behind Crowley and began to tickle him. Crowley squirmed and writhed, wet his daper, and tried in vain to get away from the twin’s harassing fingers. Finally, the demon gave up his hold on Hastur and slumped back into a twin, laughing hysterically. 

Hastur just stared in complete and utter bafflement, until he too felt thin fingers accosting the sensitive spots on his corperation's neck. (There really wasn't another place to tickle Hastur, as he had insisted on keeping on his coat.) 

He spasmed, his long tounge shooting out on reflex, and tried to hit the offending fingers. 

Ligur and Aziraphale, who had by now made their way over to the commotion, were less then amused. 

Both Crowley and Hastur were yanked off the floor by their Caregivers. 

“Are we done playfighting now?” asked one of the twins. 

Rather insulted, “Fuck you,” was Hastur's eloquent reply, which earned him a smack on the bottom. 

In the end, both Crowley and Hastur were placed on pillows in the far corner of the living room, which they were not allowed to move from. They were expected to be quiet and not to touch one another for the duration of their punishment. 

Needless to say, both were humiliated. Hastur more than Crowley; he was in that uncomfortable space between Little and Big, and he hated being treated like a Little in front of Crowley, of all demons. He hated how comfortable Crowley seemed with himself and his friends and his stupid angel. He hated how much Crowley had and how much he didn't deserve it. Crowley was a coward and a murderer and a murdering coward. He got everything handed to him by Hell, and his great repayment for that was to stop the Apocalypse that might have freed them all from the dingy confines of Hell. Hastur felt as if Crowley needed this pointed out to him. So he swiveled his head to look at the stupid, traitorous, murderous, dumb baby Crowley and hissed, “this is all your fault.”


	219. Chapter 219

How is it my fault!?” Crowley hissed back. “You’re the one who dumped water on my doll.”

“I don't mean this, you fucking idiot!” Hastur gestured at both of them. “I meant everything! You're the fucker who stopped the Apocalypse, you killed my...Ligur...and for what? So you could play human for a few more centuries with that fucking angel?”

“I did it for him, for Aziraphale! Can you really look me in the eyes and sssay that you wouldn't have done the same thing for Ligur?” 

“Ligur doesn't mean anything to me!”

“Oh, really?” said Crowley, the skepticism dripping off his words. “Then why are you here now? Why did you care so much when he died?”

“I don't,” Hastur grunted, “and he didn't die, you killed him, murderer.”

“I didn't mean to!” squeaked out Crowley. “It was self defense! You were trying to kill me!”

“We weren't! We were going to bring you to the tribunal so they could kill you...entirely different,” sniffed Hastur. 

“It was ssstill self defense,” hissed Crowley, and they lapsed into uncomfortable silence. 

“For what it's worth,” said Crowley softly, after a long while, “I'm sorry for killing your, er...your Ligur.”

Hastur just grunted and they lapsed into silence once more. 

“Was he your...you know, in Heaven,” Hastur asked quietly, while jerking his head in the general direction of Aziraphale, who was perched on a sofa, happily chatting away to Ligur and Helena. 

Crowley furrowed his brows. “My what?”

“You're, you bloody know...Caregiver,” Hastur hissed. 

“Oh, no,” replied Crowley, blinking stupidly. “I didn't have one.”

Hastur had thought that he had been the only Little in Heaven who did not have a Caregiver, but he supposed there might have been other undesirable angels that no Caregiver wanted to touch as well. Hastur, like most demons, had only very patchy memories of Heaven. It was, Hastur supposed, very possible that Crowley had been a fellow reject. 

“You were like me then...a lesser angel?”

“No,” replied Crowley, very quietly. Then he said something even quieter that Hastur couldn't hear. 

“The fuck you say?”

“I was Raphael,” Crowley said, just loud enough for Hastur to barely hear. 

“You fucking weren't,” said Hastur, though he wasn't actually sure. For all he knew, Crowley had had been. 

“Was Ligur yours, you know, in Heaven?”

“No,” replied Hastur, leaning back against the wall. “I didn't have one. How the fuck...if you were really the Archangel Raphael, which I don't believe by the way, how weren't angels lining up to be your Caregiver?”

Crowley brought up his too long legs and put his head on his knees, hiding his face. “Dunno,” he said. “Guess nobody wanted me.”

Hastur grunted again because it was his favorite form of communication and also because he didn't know what else to say. 

They lapsed into silence once again. 

Hastur shifted uncomfortably. How long was that lizard bastard going to leave him here? He was definitely peeing on him when they got home. Hastur was brought out of the planning of his urine-filled revenge when felt a sudden weight on his shoulder. 

Crowley had apparently fallen asleep and his head had landed on Hastur's shoulder. Hastur made a face and shrugged the demon off, but he only succeeded in plopping the demon's head into his lap. 

Hastur tried to wiggle and dislodge Crowley, but the sleeping demon just wound around him and held on tighter. 

With a grunt and a long suffering sigh, Hastur gave up. He let his head smack against the wall and closed his eyes. Soon his breathing slowed and he, too, was asleep.


	220. Chapter 220

“They are much...quieter like this,” Ligur observed, gently picking up Hastur. 

“Yes, and significantly less trouble as well,” Aziraphale noted, adjusting Crowley I'm his own arms. “But I rather think that they have come to some sort of truce.”

“They have, at the very least, not attempted to kill one another for a while. I wouldn't leave them alone together for a good while yet.”

“Quite so, but it is a start. Would you like a bottle for Hastur? Does he nurse while he sleeps?” Aziraphale asked as he situated himself and Crowley down on the sofa. 

“Yes,” replied Ligur, doing likewise. “Half-asleep was the only way that I could get him to take a bottle for the longest time.”

“I'll get them,”offered Helena, patting Aziraphale's knee (the one not covered by sleeping demon). 

This left Ligur and Aziraphale alone on the sofa, as Gregor and Jack had migrated to the floor to play with the twins and Eddie. 

Neither minded, though. Aziraphale thought that Ligur was a perfectly alright sort for a demon. He was calm and almost polite and he obviously adored his Little. 

Likewise, Ligur thought that Aziraphale was tolerable, for an angel. He appreciated the angel’s complete lack of condescension towards him or Hastur for being demons. He also could see the obvious devotion that the angel had for his own demon. 

“I would like to say,” said Aziraphale, clearing his throat, “that I really do admire what you are doing. I know how difficult it is to go againt, well, your entire side.”

Ligur hummed. “I was a soldier in Heaven. Then I was a soldier in Hell. I thought that is what I would always be. It was, after all, what I was created for. I do not know why I was also made a Caregiver. It seems counterproductive to me, but Her decisions are often....” 

“Ineffable?” Aziraphale suggested. 

“Yes...ineffable. Then, I was placed with Hastur and he needed me. Not as a nameless, faceless creature to carry out orders, but as myself. He needed what I could offer, and in turn he offered me something more than following orders. If the worst happened, I would do as you did, and rebel for my Little toad.” Ligur used his sleeve to wipe away some of the drool that was dripping down Hastur's chin and pooling on Ligur's shoulder. He looked up to see the angel wiping his eyes delicately with a tartan handkerchief. 

“I'm sorry, that's just terribly beautiful,” he sniffed. “I will try to help you, however I can, dear.”

Ligur looked as if he might say something, but Helena had returned with the bottles, and they busied themselves with coaxing their sleepy babies into taking their bottles. 

“They said,” said Ligur quietly, looking from the sleepy Hastur in his lap, grumbling as he sucked his bottle, to Aziraphale and Crowley, “after we Fell that we would never experience love again. God was the only true source of love, and since She no longer loved us, no one else would again either. And in turn, we could no longer love. But they were wrong.”

Ligur looked, then, quite serious. “There is more love here, now, than I have ever felt in Heaven.”

Aziraphale sniffed. “I was told the same in Heaven. Oh, but it really isn't true at all. You are quite lovely and I'm certian there are other demons that are as well. I only wish that the...well, the other angels could see it.” He pulled Crowley closer to him. “I've found more commonality with you than most angels. I do hope that, well, we might be friends, even if Hastur and Crowley never quite manage it.”

Ligur had never really had friends. He had had fellow soldiers who he didn't feel the need to thrown in the nearest sulfur pit, but that was about it. He'd never really thought of having a friend before. He inclined his head toward the angel. “I'm not opposed to the notion,” he said. 

So, for the second time in his existence, the Principality Aziraphale, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate, had befriended a demon. Much like the first time, it would not be a friendship of little consequence.


	221. Chapter 221

Crowley sleepily wiggled to ascertain where he was. It was soft, and as he shifted his weight he heard a little “oof” from underneath him, so on top of his angel he was. That was perfectly fine with him. On top of a cozy, plush Aziraphale was his favorite sleepy place, after all. 

He closed his eyes and snuggled further under the covers. He felt a pudgy and slightly cold hand begin to stroke his cheek. “Are you awake, dear?” 

“No,” huffed Crowley, letting his pacifier fall out of his mouth. 

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale, but it was fond. 

“Whaaatsit, angel?”

“I was thinking...well, Helena pointed it out really, about Hastur.”

Crowley's eyes snapped open. “Hastur? What did he do? Did he hurt you, angel? The twins? Eddie?”

Aziraphale brushed aside a ginger curl. “Oh, no, nothing like that, dearest. Hastur and Ligur left quite a while ago, and I don't think he could have hurted the twins if he wanted to.”

“Then what is it, aaangeeel?” Crowley whined, his tounge flicking out in irritation, wanting to snuggle back down into the warm embrace of sleep. 

“Helena brought to my attention that I might have been, well, a bit pushy. I did so want this entire affair with Hastur and Ligur to work out, and I really didn't give you much of a choice in the matter, and I'm very sorry, my dear boy.”

“‘Sss alright, angel,” Crowley said, laying his head back down and getting cozy once again, figuring that would be that, and he could go back to sleep.

“It isn't alright, Crowley,” Aziraphale cried. "Not everything I do is alright. I don't want you feel as if you have to agree with me on everything, especially if it distresses you. I know you didn't want Hastur here.”

“It's fine, angel. It made you happy. I'm a tough demon. I'm fine.”

“Oh, I know you are, dear,” Aziraphale said, as he looked sappily down at his Little demon, “but you shouldn't always sacrifice yourself to make me happy. I'm not going to leave if you don't give in to my every whim. Partially because this is my bookshop, but mostly because I love you, dear boy, and I love you, even if you fight with me. I can, after all, be a bit of a bastard.”

“But you’re the best bastard, and it turned out alright in the end. I mean, Hastur was terrible, but not quite as terrible as I thought, I mean, considering that I...ummm...killed his, er...Ligur. Old Ligur seems like an alright bloke, anyway. I’m glad he's back.”

“I'm glad, dear,” Aziraphale said, “but I want you to remember that you will always be, first and foremost, priority one.”

“Just remember,” Crowley yawned, “I'm your only demon.”

The angel smiled and kissed Crowley's brow, gently placing his pacifier back into the demon's mouth. “Yes dear, you’re my one and only demon.”

But the sick felling in Aziraphale's chest had not subsided, and he worried. He worried about his own actions, which he rather found to be lacking, and how they would affect his precious Crowley. He worried about the general state of the Earth and Heaven and Hell. He worried about what would happen if Ligur and Hastur were found out. He worried about whatever the...you know...Gabriel was up to these days. 

Crowley made sweet little snuffles in his sleep and wiggled adorably. Aziraphale could feel warmth on his thigh where Crowley's diapered crotch rested. The angel wrapped his arms around Crowley and squeezed tightly, burying his face in red curls. “It is no use,” he told himself sensibly, “to dwell on an uncertain future when the present is so lovely.”

The angel resolutly closed his eyes and, concentrating on the comforting weight of the demon curled up on him, he slowly fell into a fitfull slumber.


	222. Chapter 222

Lucifer sighed. Lilith had been standing smugly over his desk for while now, grinning at him in a rather worrying fashion. Her dark hair was pooling over his desk and he frequently had to shove the curly mess aside to get to his papers. He had so far lost a grand total of three pens to the mass of hair. More then a little irritated, Lucifer barked out, “What?”

“I just,” replied Lilith, oozing herself over the devil's desk, knocking over papers and staplers and a small ceramic figure of a goat that had been a joke gift from Lilith herself a couple thousand years perviously, “have procured some information that you might be interested to know.”

“What?” barked Lucifer, rubbing his temples. 

Lilith examined her nails, cleaning the dirt out from under them with a small knife. “Well,” she said slyly, “I thought you might be interested to learn that the Archangel Gabriel has been living in Hell for, like, a week now.”

Lucifer stood. “What in Hell is that idiot up to?”

Lilith grabbed a starched shirt sleeve and yanked him back down. “I have a better idea.”

“What, pray tell, is that?”

“Well, as far as I can tell, Gabriel hasn't done anything more interesting than bother Beelzebub all week.”

“And?” Lucifer prompted, wishing that Lilith would get to the point. She always had to drag out everything as long as humanly possible for her own amusement. 

“And, whatever thing he's down here to do, he obviously hasn't done it yet. So, we should watch him, that way we might be able to foil his plans, or...find out if he's Fallen. Not to mention whatever involvement Beelzebub has in this whole mess.”

The entire trouble with Lilith was that, as horrifically annoying as she was, she almost always had a very good point. “I suppose you will watch him, then?”

“Oh no,” replied Lilith, "far too boring for me. I have someone else in mind.” She extended her hands over her head and let them drape over the desk so that her fingers skimmed the floor. 

“Do you think,” asked Lucifer quietly, “that Gabriel has Fallen?” 

“Look at you,” she motioned with a lazy wave. “Look at me. God doesn't like rebels. You think that She'll let Gabriel be the exception?”

Lucifer lit a clove cigarette. “Who the fuck knows what God will do? You think Gabriel's up to something, or just needs a place to say after Mother Dearest kicked him out?”

“I don't know,” Lilith flipped over so she was lying belly down on his desk. A stray paper stuck to her back and she made a face as she plucked it off. “Gabriel doesn’t seem much of the planning sort to me, I don't think he's ever done very much of his own thinking. What concerns me is that he's with Beelzebub. That can't end well.”

“I really have gotten out of touch, haven’t I?” Lucifer asked, as he watched the smoke of his cigarette curl upwards. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on anymore.”

Lilith snorted. “Did we ever? Existence has been nothing but a bunch of ridiculous nonsense if you ask me.” 

The devil took another draw of his cigarette and couldn't help but agree.


	223. Chapter 223

Eddie stared at the little bats on his mobile, now still and silent. He didn't know how long it had been they had stopped fluttering to the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” but it had been a while. 

Eddie loved his new room. Everyone had been so nice, putting it together and letting him choose whatever he wanted for it. It was in his favorite color scheme (black and white) and filled with things he loved: horror film posters, his toys and plushies, a shiny new stereo system. It had been set up to incorporate both his Big and Little sides. The huge, old fashioned crib that Jack and the twins had dug up from some dusty corner of this dimension could be converted into a regular bed. His changing table could pass for large dresser, with all of his diapers and supplies tucked discreetly away in it's drawers. In the beginning, he'd been more than happy to sleep in his bed, in his room. 

Though lately he'd been feeling uneasy after Jack tucked him in and left for the night. It was as if someone was watching him and that someone didn't particularly like him. Eddie had come across a lot of strange things since he'd been introduced to the mirror world, but none of them had ever felt this hostile before. 

The problem was, there wasn't actually anything there. The corner of his room where he felt the thing leering from remained stubbornly empty. 

It was probably just his imagination and if he told one of the mirror wraiths they’d just think he was a silly, scared human. Eddie couldn't bear that they might begin to think that he wasn't cut out to live here with them. He couldn't give up the best family he had ever had just because of a bit of paranoia. 

He turned to face the wall, sucking furiously on his pacifier and clutching his panda. He tried to soothe himself by releasing his full bladder into his diaper and letting the comforting warmth lull him to sleep, but it was no use. He could feel the nonexistent eyes of the thing in the corner boring into his back. 

He tore the covers off and padded out of the door, still clutching his panda bear. He had wanted to take his weighted blankie, but it was too heavy and cumbersome to drag with him, and Eddie felt that it was imperative that he leave right now. 

He paused outside of Jack's door for a very long time, with his hand raised to knock. But in the end he couldn't do it. What if Jack thought he was ungrateful for not wanting to sleep in his new room? Eddie couldn't risk it. 

With a sigh, he turned from Jack's door and padded down the hall. He felt the thing following him, and instinctively he knew that he shouldn't acknowledge it or look back. He walked faster, feeling a bit more warm pee trickle into his diaper, but this time it wasn't voluntary. 

The hallways were confusing, but he had some idea of how to get to the room that the mirror connecting this place to the book shop was located in. He felt if only he could get to the bookshop, he'd be safe. 

When he made it to the mirror, he ran into it without hesitation, but he only bounced off of cool glass. It occurred to Eddie just then that he had never been through a mirror without one of the mirror wraiths touching him somehow. Maybe he couldn't get through in his own. Humans didn't tend to do much mirror traveling, after all. Oh, Go...Someone was he going to be trapped here with this horrible, feral thing he could practically salivating behind him? It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. 

He could practically feel the thing breathing down his neck now and he wanted to cry. He wanted his Daddy. He wanted to be in the cozy bookshop with everyone, cuddled together watching something happy: ‘The Addams Family’ or ‘Moomin Valley,’ maybe. He wanted it so badly. 

He took a deep breath and threw himself head first into the mirror. His vision went black. 

The next think he knew, he was lying on the floor of the bookshop. It was dark, but there was a warm, friendly, yellow glow and terrible off-key humming coming from the kitchen. 

Eddie couldn't feel the thing behind him anymore. He rested his head against the floor and let his breathing slow. It had all been in his head, he told himself. There wasn't anything there, he was just being a big fucking baby about the whole thing. 

That being said...he was in no hurry to go back.

He got up and padded towards the kitchen, still clutching his panda bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got the duplicate chapters deleted, but it was very difficult. Ao3 kept saying the chapter I was trying to delete couldn't be found. Then it glitches and froze my browser. When I got it back up the duplicates were gone, but the comments on the last one, (Which should have been the one left) we're gone. So, I'm very sorry whoever left comments for inadvertently deleting them.


	224. Chapter 224

Eddie stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Aziraphale was puttering around making something, a sleeping Crowley on his hip. Eddie didn't say anything. He felt like he was intruding, but he really, really didn't want to go back. 

Eventually, of course, the angel turned around and saw Eddie standing in the doorway with his paci and his plushie, looking somewhat forlorn. 

“Oh, hello there, dear boy, what are you doing up?” 

Eddie shuffled his feet and looked down, letting his pacifier drop out of his mouth and catch on its leash. “Couldn't sleep,” he answered, which he supposed was true enough. “Came out here to watch television. The one in the mirror dimension is weird. We watched an episode of ‘The Teletubbies’ the other day that was just them all screaming for half an hour.”Eddie scrunched up his face. “The twins thought it was hilarious.”

Aziraphale smiled. “They would, wouldn't they? Well, I was having a bit of trouble nodding off myself, and I thought I'd fix myself a nice cup of cocoa. Would you like to have one as you watch television, dear?”

“Yes, please,” Eddie said quietly. 

Aziraphale clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! Now, would you like a bottle or a sippy cup...or maybe a mug, if you're very careful?”

“Um...a sippy cup?”

“Lovely, dear, why don't you go out and watch some television and I'll be out in a tic with the cocoa.” 

Eddie didn't want to be alone. He felt safe with Aziraphale. The angel was scary, but he was nice, and Eddie felt that so long as the angel was around the thing that had been watching him wouldn't dare come back. 

“Can I hold the baby while I watch TV?” Eddie asked meekly. He'd feel better with the comforting weight of Crowley on him, even if the demon was sleeping. 

“What a delightful idea! You two can have a nice little cuddle!”

The angel made his way the the sofa, lamps slowly flickering to life as he passed, and let Eddie situate himself before placing Crowley in Eddie's arms. 

He walked back to the kitchen, but paused to look back at the two Littles. Something was wrong, the angel could just feel it. Eddie, quite frankly, looked frightened, and why hadn't he gone to wake up Jack if something had frighted him? He watched Eddie bite his lip and fiddle with the remote, putting ‘Moomin Valley’ up on the screen. 

Occasionally, Eddie's eyes would dart into the still darkened corners of the room, or he would swivel his head and look behind him. It was, Aziraphale realized, the look of an animal being hunted, and it certainly didn't belong on sweet Little Eddie's face. Aziraphale was going to get to the bottom of this. 

The trouble was, Eddie was so much like Crowley. Eddie would never just come out and say what was wrong.

Aziraphale turned back to the kitchen. He would just have to be clever and subtle, and gently coax what was wrong out of the Little human. It was probably something that could be quite easily fixed. If Eddie was annything like Crowley, (which Aziraphale knew for a fact that he was) he was just too embarrassed to admit it, or thought that he would be ever so slightly inconveniencing someone he loved (an unforgivable crime to the Eddies and the Crowleys of the universe, it seemed). 

Maybe Eddie's diaper had leaked and he'd wet his sheets? Or he didn't like to sleep alone? Or maybe one of the weird, little creatures that inhabited the mirror realm had given him a fright? They did tend to have more skittery little legs or tiny sharp teeth than strictly nesessary. Aziraphale had had the displeasure of seeing one that was a sort of clear, gelatinous blob with a lot of visible organs floating around in it. (The angel shuddered. He knew they were dreadfully useful little things, but he much preferred organs on the inside, where one couldn't see them twitching about.) Aziraphale wouldn't be surprised if that one had frightened the poor Little human. 

But whatever the case, Aziraphale would get to the bottom of it and fix it, he thought resolutely while screwing on the cap of Eddie's sippy cup. He placed it on a tray and grasped the handles. “Clever and subtle,” he could do this, he told himself, he could do this.


	225. Chapter 225

Aziraphale handed Eddie his black sippy full of hot cocoa. “Would you like to feed Crowley his bottle?” the angel asked, extending the aforementioned bottle out for Eddie to take, if he so pleased. 

“Yes, please,” Eddie said. He had always loved to hold and take care of Littles, it calmed him, and that hadn't seemed to change any since she he had begun to explore his own Little side. 

He carefully tugged the paci out of Crowley's mouth, which elicited a sleepy grumble from the demon. Eddie then replaced it with the bottle, which appeased the Little beast. Crowley started sucking happily and snuggled down into Eddie's warmth. 

Aziraphale sat down on the sofa beside Eddie and Crowley, angel wing mug in hand, and for a while they were all quiet. They watched ‘Moomin Valley’ and sipped their cocoa. Crowley finished his bottle and Eddie gently took it out of the demon’s mouth and replaced it with his pacifier. Eddie wanted his own pacifier, but he felt too self-conscious to suck on it in front of Aziraphale. It was probably a little dumb, Aziraphale had, after all, seen Eddie using a pacifier before, but somehow it still embassased him to want it. It was more acceptable to Eddie to take Little things when they were offered to him by other people, then to just have them because he wanted them. 

Otherwise, it was quite nice being by Aziraphale, though. It made him feel safe. Eddie finished off his cocoa and set the sippy cup down on the little side table; he let his head fall back and the gentle sounds of the adventures of the inhabitants of ‘Moomin Valley’ wash over him. He was almost asleep when Aziraphale gently asked, “Eddie, dear, do you want to go sleep in your crib?” 

Eddie sat up, jostling Crowley, who hissed in his sleep. “No!”

Aziraphale blinked, he hadn't quite expected that. “Eddie, darling,” Aziraphale said, carefullly and very, very tactfully, “is there, err...something wrong? Maybe something happened that made you a bit frightened?” Aziraphale put on his best, most comforting smile, which made him look much more deranged than he had intended. 

Eddie shook his head vigorously. “No, I'm fine, I can go sleep in my crib...bed...my bed. It’s fine.” Eddie looked increasingly more maniac as he spoke and it rather worried Aziraphale, he had hoped the introduction of this subject would go much more smoothly. 

“Jussst tell the angel what'sss wrong, Eddie,” Crowley sleepily commanded, and then instantly returned to sleep drooling all over Eddie's shirt.

Eddie looked pointedly at the floor. “There was something chasing me 'n I dunno how, but I knew it wanted to do something, like, bad, but there wasn't anything there, and it's in my room, and I can't sleep.” 

All of this had been mumbled in one breath and it took the angel a few moments to decode it.

“Oh,” he said with understanding. “Oh! Did you have a bad dream?”

The twins had once told him that you couldn't have bad dreams. You either had dreams or, if it was unpleasant, it was a nightmare, and that was it. But Eddie didn't want to argue with Aziraphale. It probably had been a been a nightmare, after all. What he had felt chasing him had really been like anything else he encountered in the mirror realm, and Helena had told him that the transient mirror wraiths who passed through weren't alowed in their private rooms. So Eddie simply shrugged and said, “yeah, I guess.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Aziraphale cooed, convinced he had found the cause of Eddie's distress and a little bit proud of himself for it. (Even if he'd had a bit of demonic help.) “Why don't you sleep out here in the crib with Crowley? He'll chase away the nasty old dreams.”

Eddie nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Now, Crowely definitely needs a diaper change by now. Are you wet as well, dear?”

Eddie hesitantly nodded. His diaper was soaked, and had grown cold and itchy. 

“Now, I know that you may not be comfortable with me changing you, so we can go and get one of the mirror wraiths, or I can preform a teeny miracle. Which would you prefer, dear?”

“Won't, um...doing a miracle tire you out?” Eddie asked. 

“Oh, I rather think I'm well enough to preform a few little miracles here and there. Is that what you want, me to miracle you a dry diaper?”

Eddie nodded, and with a snap of Aziraphale’s fingers Eddie's diaper was not only dry, but much thicker and softer than it had been, and there was a pleasant scent of baby powder in the air. 

After a certain sleepy demon was diapered, Eddie and Crowley were tucked in the crib. Aziraphale placed Eddie's pacifier in his mouth and patted him on the head. He went to move away but Eddie grasped his wrist. “Will you stay with me...I mean, us? Please?”

“Oh, certainly dear,” replied Aziraphale, rather touched that Eddie wanted him to stay. “I'll just sit in my chair right here and read.”

Eddie seemed appeased by this and let go of Aziraphale. 

The angel settled down with a copy of ‘The Night Circus’ (he was still easing himself into modern literature, which to Aziraphale, meant things written in the last hundred years). He was quite certain that everything would be fine, (at least with Eddie) because his worries weren't real. Just the product of too many of those garish slasher films and eating some of Jack's anchovie and garlic pizza for lunch that afternoon. 

No, thought Aziraphale, nothing to worry about at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... Aziraphale tried?


	226. Chapter 226

The second Aziraphale saw Jack next, he pulled him aside, suggesting that maybe Eddie was a bit too Little to be sleeping on his own at the moment. So Jack asked if Eddie did want to sleep with him for the foreseeable future. The answer was, quite predictably, a resounding yes.

So Eddie slept with Jack, and for a day or so everything seemed to be going quite well. Eddie had no more nightmares, no more unexpected demons or angels came for a visit, Aziraphale and Crowley hadn't had a miscommunication in what seemed, quite frankly, like ages...so, obviously, this state of affairs couldn't last. 

Aziraphale was quite happily tucked away in the room of books that Gregor had found and been so kind as to show him. There were so many new tomes, the angel was in heaven (metaphorically - the real Heaven didn't have books; an unforgivable thing, if you happened to be an Aziraphale). The Littles were all happily playing in the twins’ room. Helena and Gregor were doing “upkeep,” whatever that meant. Jack was off doing...whatever Jack did. 

Aziraphale was quite absorbed in an odd book about the proper way to live in walls when that unpleasant feeling of certain dread washed over him. He jerked his head up and looked around, but there was nothing but stacks upon stacks of books. He returned to his novel. 

He could almost feel someone staring at him. It was very peculiar. He resolutely didn't look up. Then, he could almost feel something breathing down his back. The angel shuddered. Then, he felt long and slightly damp fingers on his neck. He jumped up, his chair squeaking across the floor. “Now see here!” Aziraphale told the empty air. “There is something called personal space! I should like it very much if you respected mine. Just going about touching people is quite rude, you know!”

The air did not reply to him, and the angel half-convinced himself he was imagining things. But, well, in this odd place he supposed he couldn't rule anything out. 

He gatherd up the book he had been reading, as well as a few others, and made his way out of the room. 

He wandered around aimlessly for a while and, quite by accident, he eventually found Gregor and Helena doing something or other with large quantities of salt (or at least Aziraphale thought it was salt). 

Helena tilted her head, her long braids falling over her shoulder. “What's wrong sweetheart?”

“I, well, I rather think there's something or someone here.” The angel went on to explain, the best he could, what had happened. 

“Maybe it was one of the nomads?” Helena suggested. “Some of them are a bit less talkative than us, and quite curious. They'd probably never seen an angel before. Oh, but most of them are harmless, really.”

“This didn't feel harmless,” Aziraphale sniffed. “It felt rather unsettling, like I was being looked at like I was a particularly delicious crepe.” 

A shadow of worry passed over Gregor's face. He turned to Helena. “You don't think it's her, do you?”

Helena's face grew dark, and she turned her head to face Gregor so fast that Aziraphale could hear her neck snapping. “It isn't,” she practically growled at Gregor; which surprised and slightly distubed Aziraphale. Helena was usually so calm and reasonable, to see her like this was jarring. 

“I only meant that it does sound very similar,” Gregor said gently, “and if it is, wouldn't it be better to be prepared for....”

“It Is'Nt HeR!” Helena's voice had changed into some sort of odd, resonating half-growl that made Aziraphale jump. “It's someone else,” she said in a more normal, if not rather clipped, tone. “We will find out who it is and make it clear to them that they are only welcome here if they do not bother our friends.” With this, Helena grabbed her bucket of salt and, in a swish of skirts and braids, she began to walk away. 

A few steps away, she paused and looked back over her shoulder at Gregor and a somewhat baffled angel. “It isn't her,” she said, but her voice cracked slightly, and she didn't sound nearly as certain as she had intended to.


	227. Chapter 227

Aziraphale set the phone down (the kind with a cord, of course; Aziraphale didn't trust the other kind) and went to find Crowley. He'd received a call from Ligur this morning, who had asked if he would babysit Hastur for an undetermined period of time, as he'd been quite unexpectedly given a demonic assignment. 

This time, Aziraphale was determined to do better by his Little demon. He walked to the sofa where Gregor was holding the sleeping demon. He sat down and motioned to take Crowley. 

He gently stroked Crowley's face until yellow eyes opened. “Crowley, dear, I want to ask you something important.”

Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. “What'sss that, angel?” he asked, his darling little forked tounge flicking out. 

“Ligur called. He's been given an assignment and he wishes us to watch Little Hastur for the duration.” Aziraphale felt his baby stiffen in his arms. “Now, I haven't said yes. I told Ligur that it was up to you, and I don't want you to say yes just because you think it's what I want. I've made it perfectly clear that you are the most important thing to me, and I won't agree if it makes you too uncomfortable in your own home.”

“I can handle Hastur,” Crowley sniffed. 

“Oh, I know, darling,” Aziraphale said, still stroking his baby's cheek, “but I won't make you if you don't want to. I don't want you to think you have to do this.”

Crowley scrunched up his pointy little face and thought, which required great amounts of effort on his part. The gears in his head began to turn slowly and laboriously. Aziraphale obviously wanted to make more demon friends and babysit Hastur (which didn't make Crowley jealous at all), but Crowley wasn't keen on having Hastur over, even if the demon wasn't quite as much of an asshole as Crowley had thought he was. Crowley thought some more...and, by some demonic miracle, he managed to come up with an idea: compromise! Crompromise was a thing, a thing Crowley could probably do. 

“Hastur can come,” Crowley said, though he made a face as he said it, “but only on these conditions.”

Aziraphale's eyebrows raised. “And those are, dear?”

“He can't play with my toys unless I say so,” said Crowley, ticking the list off on his long fingers as he went along, “and he has to be nice to me and Eddie.”

“Not the twins?” Aziraphale queried. 

“He can be mean to them at his own peril,” Crowley said, with a slightly wicked smile slipping over his face. “Also, you can't snuggle him. I'm the only demon that gets angel snuggles. No feeding him bottles or changing his diapers.”

“Ah...I don't know about the last one, dear...unless you'd be willing to?” the angel asked Gregor.

“Certainly,” the mirror wraith inclined his head. “It may be best if I or Helena do it. Jack's relationship with Eddie is still quite new, and I don't think that Eddie would particularly care for Jack giving so much attention to another Little.”

“Oh, thank you, dear,” Aziraphale smiled gratefully at Gregor. “Is there anything else, dear?”

Crowley widened his eyes and jutted out his lower lip in a pout in his cutest and most manipulative expression. “I get no time-outs if I bite him?”

“Crowley,” said the angel sternly, but fondly giving his nose a boop. “How about this instead? I don't expect you to be exceptionally nice to Hastur, but you shouldn't be particularly mean either.”

“Alright, angel,” Crowley yawned. “Can I have a diapee change and a bottle?” the demon asked, wriggling closer to his angel. 

“Oh, of course, dear,” Aziraphale said, petting red hair. “Of course.”

Later, when they were all tucked into bed, it would dawn on Aziraphale that this was the first time that Crowley had ever asked him for a diaper change and just how significant that was. Crowley trusted him enough to ask for somthing so intimate and know that he wouldn't be turned away. 

Once, Aziraphale had thought that Gabriel's, and by extension's God's, approval was all he could have asked for. But this, this was far better. Even after he had repeatedly made such a great mess of things, this lovely Little creature still trusted him so deeply. 

“Papa?” asked a sleep heavy voice. “Why are you crying? You're not sssad, are you? Did sssomeone make you sad? I'll fight them.” 

“Oh, I know you would, my dearest little one, but no,” said Aziraphale, sniffling. “I'm not sad. I’m quite the opposite, in fact. I'm very happy, very happy indeed.”


	228. Chapter 228

Ligur set the cracked bakelite telephone receiver, held together with bandaids and human suffering, down and sighed. “Hastur, Aziraphale has agreed to watch you,” he said to the pile of simmering anger and resentment curled up under the blankets and clutching a plush toad. 

Ligur sat down on the bed. “It will only be until this new duty ends.” He placed a hand on Hastur's blanket covered shoulder. “I know this is far from ideal.... I hoped to give everyone time to acclimate. I wouldn't do this if I thought there was any other option.”

Hastur didn't say anything, he just stared at the wall, his black eyes oddly glassy, and gave his pacifier an occasional suck. 

Ligur climbed into bed behind his Little toad. “I'm sorry,” Ligur whispered into Hastur's white hair as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Hastur wasn't any more responsive in the morning than he had been the night previously. Ligur changed and dressed Hastur and he just laid there, a dead weight in Ligur's arms. Ligur would have vastly preferred a tantrum to this. He had made so much progress with his Little since he'd been dead and he could feel it slipping through his fingers. 

The demon packed everything he thought that his Little toad would need in an ugly green carpet bag, then a few more things besides.

He couldn't coax Hastur to walk, or even stand, so Ligur ended up carrying him through Hell. He stuck to the back alleys. He knew that when he was more himself, Hastur would have a right fit if he knew anyone in Hell had seen him in this state. (It also helped that, by now, almost everyone in Hell had learned to mind their own bussines, generally the hard way.) 

Ligur walked through the streets of London with his Little toad in his arms. He stood in front of the bookshop a long time before he was able to knock. He was going to be leaving this place without Hastur. It was for the best, Ligur told himself, but that didn't lessen the bitter taste in his mouth. 

The door opened to reveal the plump angel, and by reflex Ligur greeted him with, “Hail Satan.” 

“Oh, errr...yes, um...hello to you, too. Do come in.”

Once inside, Ligur thrust a piece of rather grubby paper at Aziraphale. “I've made a list of pertinent information about Hastur: 

“He needs diapers, but he often takes them off to piss on things when he's mad. He takes drinks better when you mix them with alcohol. He likes toads and frogs. He shouldn't be left alone, even when he tells you to go away. He likes water - he'll sit in the bath all day if you let him. He sleeps when it's cold out. He takes pacifiers well, the frog one is his favorite, but you might have difficulties during a diaper change. You can spank him when he's difficult, but only with your hand, never with anythng else. Do you understand?”

Ligur was looking at the angel quite intently now. 

“Errr...yes?” Aziraphale said, but he didn't sound particularly sure. 

Ligur sighed, but he supposed that all the necessary information was written down. 

“Is he alright?” the angel asked. 

“He gets like this sometimes when he's upset.” Ligur petted Hastur's hair. “I don't know how long it will last.”

“Ahhh.”

“Thank you,” said Ligur quietly. “Is there anywhere that I can...,” Ligur cleared his throat, “that I can say good-bye?” 

Aziraphale placed a chubby hand on Ligur's arm, comfortingly. It was strange to have an angel touch him, but Ligur was the littlest bit grateful for it anyway. “The living room is empty. You can set him on the sofa.”

The living room was indeed empty and Ligur placed the listless Little on the sofa, tucking Hastur’s favorite frog plush into his limp hands. He kneeled down and pressed his face into Hastur's hair. “I love you, Little toad, and I will be back.”

He pressed a kiss to white hair and stood to leave, but a pale hand caught his coat sleeve. 

“Don't go,” Hastur gritted out, his voice tense and breaking. “If you go, you won't come back.”

Ligur grasped Hastur's pale hands in his darker ones. “I will come back, Hastur.”

Hastur let his hand drop out of Ligur's loose grip and turned so he was facing the back of the sofa. “Don't make promises you can't fucking keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've legit been doing this for half a year now....


	229. Chapter 229

Hasur stared at the back of the sofa. He felt odd and disjointed, like he wasn't really there. He felt things moving about him in a hazy blur. There were people talking. Someone poked his back, but he barely felt it. 

The only thought that tethered him to any semblance of consciousness was that Ligur was gone and he wasn't coming back. Hastur just knew it. He'd begged to go with, but Ligur hadn't relented. The assignment was for him, alone. Beelzebub would be angry if she found out. He was too Little to go anywhere. Now Ligur was gone, the bastard. Didn't he know he was the only thing in that wasn't absolute shit in Hastur's existence? 

Hastur closed his eyes and let the darkness take him. 

When he woke up, the room was significantly darker than he rembered it. He still felt fuzzy and sluggish, and his limbs were too heavy to move. He gave a grunt as, with great effort, he lifted a hand to rub at his eyes. 

“Awake I see,” rumbled a voice from behind him. 

Hastur grunted. He heard footsteps behind him and felt a large hand being placed on his diapered bottom. 

“I suspected as much. It's time for a change.”

“No,” Hastur said. 

“Well, I believe you have the same capabilities as Crowley. Do you want to miracle yourself dry?”

“No,” Hastur replied again. 

“Well, I'm afraid that one or the other must happen. I won't let you stay in a wet diaper, you’ll get a rash.”

“I don't care,” replied Hastur, still staring at the back of the sofa. 

“Aaahhh,” replied the mirror wraith, “but I do.” And then he procceded to pick up the demon. 

Hastur, however, found this quite objectionable. Didn't this fat mirror wraith understand that he wanted to be left alone? Hastur wriggled and swore and attempted to escape the wraith's hold. 

“Fuck off! Fuck off! Let me go, you bastard. Stop touching me! Stop touching me! You're not my daddy!” Shit...had Hastur really said that? Ligur definitely wasn't his daddy. 

“I know, dear,” Gregor said, squeezing the wriggly demon closer in his vice-like grip. “I'm not your daddy, but I don't think that he would like to come back and find you have a nasty diaper rash.”

“It doesn't matter! He's not fucking coming back! He's not coming back....” Here the demon devolved into sobs. 

Like Crowley, Hastur had no tear ducts, which somehow made crying all the worse. He shook and sobbed and make odd, strangled, croaking noises. He wriggled with renewed fervor and beat his fists and feet against the mirror wraith. 

Gregor just held him until the demon slumped into his arms, a dead weight once more. 

Gregor petted the white hair of the head that was currently resting on his shoulder. “There we are, baby. I can not say for certain that your daddy will come back, but I do believe that he will try his very best to come home to you. In the meantime, however, I will look after you...whether or not you wish to be looked after.”

Gregor laid Hasur down on the changing mat. “There we are. You aren't such a naughty boy, are you? You just miss your daddy, don't you? I’m certain we will come to have a fine time together.”

Hastur just let his head roll to the side and grunted.


	230. Chapter 230

Hastur was waking in a swamp. It was definitely on Earth, as both Heaven and Hell tended to be quite devoid of swamps. He could hear the croaking of frogs and toads (which Ligur sometimes jokingly referred to as the song of his people), and feel the soft, cool moss under his bare feet. He could feel his diaper, thick and comforting, between his legs and his pacifier firmly in his mouth.

Hastur plopped down on the soft blanket of moss. He could feel his diaper squish under him. The demon closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the cool wind on the face of his corporation. The toad on his head croaked happily. Hastur placed his hands palm down on the moss, feeling the Earth below them. 

“Hastur.”

The aforementioned demon opened his eyes. He knew that voice. Ligur! Ligur! Ligur! He scrambled up and looked around wildly for the bastard, and found him standing atop the pond. Not in it, on it, dressed in his scarf and long coat with his arms open and beckoning (having not been particularly familiar with Jesus, or any literature pertaing to him, the irony of the imagery was lost on Hastur). 

Hastur ran to Ligur, his own feet barely skimming the water. He sagged against Ligur in relief and buried his face in Ligur's chest, rubbing his cheek against the soft, worn material of the demon's ratty scarf. Ligur was alive, and he was here, with Hastur. 

Hastur felt a cold drop on his head and for some reason he had the funny idea that it was Ligur crying. He looked up. He'd never seen Ligur cry before. 

But Ligur wasn't crying. The water had fallen from the sky and it was soon followed by another drop that landed on Hastur's nose. The raindrops began to torrent down and, as they landed atop Ligur's head, they produced steam. Then, before his eyes, Ligur began to melt. 

The demon's features slid down his face and his head fell in on itself, his body turned to sludge in Hastur's arms. Hastur fervently tried to mold his daddy back together using handfuls of Ligur-goop, but it was no use. Ligur dissolved and slipped out of Hastur's hands and became one with the pond. 

Hastur screamed.


	231. Chapter 231

A dark face swam above him and, for a brief second, Hastur felt himself sag in relief. It was a dream, it was all a dream. Ligur wasn't dead. He hadn't been called away for some demonic mission. He was here, with Hastur. Hastur stretched his hands up to grab at his daddy. 

As the face came nearer, Hastur came to the sickening realization that it wasn't Ligur, and began to scream once more. 

He was lifted in the mirror wraith’s arms and held, but it wasn't nearly as comforting as it would be if it had been Ligur. 

He heard the door open and footsteps, but he didn't care who it was or what they wanted. It wasn't Ligur. He faintly heard someone ask why the baby was crying, and he wondered who it was that was crying. 

He felt the mirror wraith begin to walk. He bent over to get something and Hastur gripped tighter. Then, Hastur felt something cool and fluid surrounding him, then he was no longer in the warmth of the bookshop, but it wasn't the cold of outside either. 

A large hand rubbed circles on his back. “I thought that you might like a nice bath, your daddy said you liked baths.” Gregor's deep voice reverberated through his chest and into Hastur's ear. 

“Frogs.”

“Frogs?” questioned Gregor. 

“Bath frogs,” replied Hastur testily. 

“Ahhh...I'll see if your daddy packed them.” 

The bathroom was ornate, but old, and the ugly floral wallpaper was peeling in places, showing bare wall. The tub, however, was quite large and circular and would make a nice toady pool. 

Hastur felt no shame as Gregor undressed him and sat him in the tub. He felt a pang of panic as the tap was turned on, filled with the unreasonable fear that it was holy water flowing into the tub, but the water touched his leg and, while it was warm, it didn't burn. 

Gregor placed a horde of little plastic frogs, a couple of plastic lizards, and one lone turtle in the bath. Hastur reached out and grasped a frog and held it to his chest. 

Ligur had gotten these for him. He'd learned what Hastur liked and gone into a shop and probably shoplifted these for him (it was terribly undemonic to pay for things) and brought them home to him, even though he'd probably been terrible and thrown at least six things at Ligur that day. If Ligur ever came back, Hastur would be less terrible. He wouldn't throw things, or scream, or pee on all of Ligur's things. He'd be...good; or as good as a demon could be, if only Ligur would come back. 

Hastur clutched the little plastic frog tighter. “Please,” he whispered to himself, because demons had no one to pray to, and even when he had been an angel, God had never answered his prayers anyway. “Please come back.”


	232. Chapter 232

Hastur stayed in the bath for a very long time. Gregor sat by the tub patiently. Periodically he asked if Hastur wanted out or to be bathed. Hastur shook his head “no” and Gregor just went back to quietly waiting. Eventually Hastur nodded “yes” to being bathed. 

Gregor gently rubbed a soapy cloth over him, humming soothingly all the while. He tilted the Little back and washed his hair, and Hastur decided he liked laying in the water better than sitting in it and refused to sit back up. Gregor didn't seem to mind and didn't try to force him up. 

Hastur wiggled down in the water so that only his eyes and a mop of white hair were above the water. He flicked his quite long tounge out in order to push one of the little frogs in the water. It was actually kind of fun. He aimed his tongue for another toy, then another. He was the alpha amphibian here, all other frogs beware! 

“Are you having fun, Little one?” 

Hastur had forgotten the mirror wraith was there and he immediately sunk back down into the water. He stayed motionless like that for a long while and Gregor simply waited, kneeling by the tub like a squat gargoyle atop a church.

Hastur yawned and foul-tasting, soapy water flooded into his mouth. He sputtered, and spit, and made annoyed and displeased noises. 

“Would you like to get out now?” Gregor asked once more, and this time Hastur nodded “yes.” 

He was laid out on a changing table and couldn’t muster up any will to care about it. He wanted his diapers. He wanted any sort of comfort and he didn't particularly care where he got it from. 

As soon as he was diapered Hastur immediately peed, feeling the warmth seep around him. 

“Maybe we should double diaper you,” Gregor noted, and attempted to change Hastur once again, but Hastur wriggled away. 

“I won't let you stay in a wet diaper, Little one.”

Hastur grunted and tucked himself into a ball on the far end of the changing table. 

Gregor tried a new approach and rummaged around in Hastur's bag for a pacifier, in hopes that he could coax the baby towards him. He pulled out several frog toys, bottles, clothes, diapers, and, nearing the bottom of the bag, he pulled out a ratty length of black cloth with a note pinned on it. He held it up so Hastur could see. 

“Look at this Little one, see what it says?” Gregor read the note aloud:

‘Hastur, please take care of this, I'll be back for it.’

Recognizing Ligur's scarf, Hastur lunged forward and yanked it out of Gregor's hands. He buried his face in it, taking in the familiar scent of that bastard Ligur. 

Gregor found him a bit more compliant after that, and he managed to clean up and re-diaper the demon. Wrangling pajamas on the demon was more difficult, as it involved Hastur letting go of the scarf for a short period of time, but in the end he persevered. He gathered Hastur up in his arms and decided to see if the Little would take a bottle.


	233. Chapter 233

Ligur placed his hand in the pocket of his coat and rubbed his fingers against the silky material of the little frog toy of Hastur's that he had pocketed. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but was filled with small, and rather hard, plastic pellets. Hastur enjoyed chucking it at Ligur's head when he was in a mood...and Hastur was almost always in a mood. But having the small toy helped to make Ligur feel closer to Hastur, and he needed it at the moment. 

He lurked in the shadows, observing the hallway with two heavy doors - one of which his target was behind. 

Lord Beelzebub's door had ‘Abandon hope all ye who enter here’ scratched into it. Ligur wasn't about to take that warning lightly. He was pretty certain that Beelzebub's rooms were warded to the hilt, if not outright booby-trapped. No, whatever the Archangel Gabriel was doing in there could just remain a secret, thank you very much. 

The empty room in which Gabriel was residing would be a better bet, but from what Lilith said, Gabriel was seldom there. It would do any good to watch an empty room, though maybe he would sneak in and have a rifle through the angel's things later. The best thing, Ligur decided, was to wait here for a while to get an idea of Gabriel’s and Beelzebub's comings and goings. Best, thought Ligur, to make himself a bit less conspicuous. 

His corporation began to shift and writhe and fold in on itself until a chameleon stood in the place where Ligur once had. He crawled up the wall and found a sizable crack in the stone where he wedged himself in, his skin slowly fading to a dull gray, blending him in with the surrounding stone. He wiggled a bit to get comfortable and laid his head on his front feet. 

He wondered how his Little toad was doing. Was he getting his diapers changed often enough? Was he getting on with the other Littles? (Ligur highly doubted it.) Did Ligur forget to pack any of Hastur's favorite toys? Was Hastur peeing on things he wasn't supposed to be? Would the angel and the mirror wraiths get mad at him? Ligur hoped they wouldn't yell, Hastur didn't react well to yelling. Ligur hated this. Hastur wasn't ready to be away from him for so long and, quite frankly, he wasn't ready to be away from Hastur, either. His Little toad was so Little and he needed him.

Not to mention that this entire assignment wasn't sitting right with Ligur. He wasn't in the habit of questioning orders (the one time he had, it hadn't ended well), but spying on his boss and the Archangel Gabriel seemed...inadvisable at best. 

He couldn’t imagine Beelzebub being a traitor to Hell. (Though, Ligur supposed he couldn't talk if she was. He would gladly flee Hell and never look back if it meant the safety of Hastur.) Ligur didn't know why he was needed. Beelzebub obviously had some plan with the Archangel Gabriel and if she found out that Ligur was interfering he didn't think he'd get to go back to Earth and collect his Little toad. Likewise, if he failed to retrieve sufficent information on Gabriel, he would be subjected to Liith's wrath, and he wasn't quite certain which he'd rather face if it came down to it. 

He just wanted to get through this without being killed...again. His Little toad was just becoming somewhat comfortable with him staying again. He couldn't do this to him. He had always considered himself expendable before Hastur. That's what soldiers were, after all, at least in Heaven: an army made to die at the command of God. But to Hastur, he was irreplaceable, and that was a such a great honor and responsibility. 

Maybe he should just flee with Hastur. They could probably disappear into the mirror realm. But Hastur didn't like change all that much. Ligur didn't think his Little toad would like to leave the home that they had made together. 

Ligur would just have to figure out a way to get through this without once more ending up a puddle of demon goo on someone's floor. When he got back he was going to spoil his Little toad to death. He'd miracle him a nice little pool in the floor so that he could go in the water anytime he wanted. He'd steal every toad themed item from every shop the world over. He'd read him all the goriest fairy tales and, when he was finished, he'd kidnap a writer and make him write more, even gorier ones. He'd never let Hastur out of his arms again. He just had to get back.


	234. Chapter 234

Hastur was, for the moment, calm, but Gregor knew he was far from happy. He thought the best thing to do was to try and get the Little's mind off the current situation. He found some art supplies in Hastur's bag, so he sat him down with those as he read, occasionally glancing over to look at the the demon. 

Hastur had cut some paper into strips with scissors Gregor certainly didn't remember giving him, and was now folding them into...something. He was quite adorable with his brow furrowed, sucking on his pacifier in concentration. 

The peace that Gregor had cultivated was spoiled by the twins bursting in the door and bouncing over, just managing not to spill the tray of tea they were carrying. 

“Helena said to give this to you.”

“Also, we wanted to see if the new baby was alright.”

“I'm not a baby,” Hastur growled. 

“Infant?” 

“Toddler?”

“Babe?” The twins suggested. 

“No,” Hastur snapped. 

“Edgar, Ellen,” said Gregor with what was just shy of an eye roll. 

“We'll be nice.” The twins set down the tray, then they leaned over the table where Hastur had been working. “What's that?”

“A paper star,” replied Hastur testily. 

One twin held out a hand, palm up. “Can we see?”

“I don't care.” Hastur shoved the star into the twin's hand. He watched very carefully as they examined it, worried that they would crush it in front of him. 

“Did you make this?” 

“Yes.”

“Out of paper?”

Hastur did roll his eyes. “Yes.”

“That's awesome,” the twins said in unison. “Can you teach us?” 

“Oh, Crowley! Crowley would want to make stars, too! He likes stars! Can you teach him, too?”

Hastur didn't want to show the creepy twins and stupid, baby Crowley how to make paper stars, but...he really liked that part where they had said how awesome he was and wanted to do it again. “Fine,” he sniffed, “but you have to help the baby if he's too dumb to figure it out himself.”

The twins smiled, which only served to make them look creepier, and ran off, presumably to find Crowley. 

Hastur thought sometimes that he should put up more of a fuss to everything that was happening. He didn't need to be here and be babied by these bloody lunatics. But, he was so very tired and cold in a way that blankets and heaters couldn't fix. And he had promised (under protest) to try this for Ligur.

He folded another star. 

Crowley, for his part, wasn't pleased about being pulled away from his angel, who he'd been permently affixed to ever since Hastur had come over. He examined one of the paper stars that Hastur had made. As much as he hated to admit that anything Hastur did was appealing...the little paper stars were pretty awesome. He plopped his diapered bottom down on the floor where the twins were spreading piles of multi-patterned and colored paper and more scissors than anyone could possibly need (including a pair of gardening shears that, quite frankly, worried Crowley.) 

Hastur grunted as he sat on the floor with them and began to show them how to fold the strips of paper. It was odd, seeing Hastur this way. He was pretty quiet, for a start, and he was sucking on a pacifier while wearing a long sleeve shirt with a smiling turtle on it. When he bent over to work on his paper star, Crowley could see Hastur's diaper and plastic pants peeking over the waistband of his trousers. 

“You're not doing it right,” Hastur grumped at Crowley. “Look, do it like this.” Hastur leaned over and grabbed Crowley's hands, guiding them into refolding the paper and pinching it just right to make a puffy little star. Hastur sat back down on his thickly diapered bottom, looking pleased with himself, and Crowley heard a squish that made Crowley think that Hastur had just peed himself.

It was weird, thought Crowley, as he watched Hastur correct the twins’ star pinching techniques. Definitely weird, but surprisingly not as bad as he thought it would be. Maybe he could live with this...so long as Hastur stayed far away from Aziraphale and received no affection from him whatsoever. (Angel cuddles were only for snakey snakes...and the twins and Eddie, but only occasionally, most cuddles must go to Crowley.) Hastur definitely made for a better playmate than Annie, at the very least. This might actually...work.


	235. Chapter 235

It was decided that Hastur would sleep with Gregor in Gregor's room. He'd been relatively fine all day. After he'd finished playing with the twins and Crowley he'd had a nap without any fuss, then he had watched television with the others for a little while (grabbing the remote out of Eddie's hands and demanding a documentary about frogs or toads, but he quite reasonably settled on one about lizards). Though, as it got darker outside, Hastur seemed to get more fussy and despondent. 

Gregor intended to do everything he could to comfort the poor Little demon, who obviously was missing his daddy dreadfully. 

He gave Hastur another bath, which mostly consisted of letting Hastur wiggle around in the warm water with his toy frogs. Then he double-diapered Hastur and wrapped him in blankets, making certain that Hastur had his plush frog and his blankie and his daddy's scarf. In the privacy of his room, he got the grumpy demon to take a bottle. 

He tucked Hastur into his bed between him and the wall. He could hear the light hissing of Hastur peeing. His first instinct was to change the Little immediately, because he didn't want any nasty diaper rashes to develop. But Gregor had noticed that Hastur seemed to be comforted by wetting his diapers, so Gregor settled for double diapering him and applying a thick layer of diaper cream. 

The Little demon really was very cute, even if he was a bit ill-tempered. Gregor really didn't understand how Ligur had any trouble finding someone to look after him, but then, apparently, Littles and Caregivers didn't exist in Hell, which Gregor found quite unlikely. Angels had Littles and Caregivers and all demons had been Fallen angels, surely a percentage of the angels that had Fallen would be Littles or Caregivers? There had to be more than Ligur, Hastur, and Crowley. But Gregor supposed that was neither here nor there. Hastur was here with him now and Gregor would look after him. 

It was nice, really, having Hastur around. Jack had, understandably, been spending less time with him since Eddie had become his Little. Certainly Jack would still find him if he wanted to be indulged for a while with cuddles and a bit of diapering, but it wasn't like it had once been. Jack no longer just came over to sit in his lap, or ask a million inane questions about what he was reading, they no longer ever shared the same bed, or spent evening close together on the sofa, going about their own hobbies, but enjoying one another's presence. 

Gregor had hoped that Eddie would just fit nicely into their already set dynamic, and be a bit Gregor's Little too, but that seemed like it wasn't going to happen. Eddie had never really taken to him, and seemed slightly frightened of him. It was understandable really, he wasn't particularly inviting or warm like Jack, Helen, or Aziraphale. He was reserved and quiet, he didn't smile or laugh as much as the others. But he did miss Jack. He hoped in time Eddie would become a little less wary of him and, while he never expected Jack’s and his relationship to be as it once had been, he hoped that one day they could all be at ease in the same room together. In the mean time, Hastur made quite the nice little distraction. 

He really wasn't nearly the terror Aziraphale and Crowley had said he was. He was just a very small Little in need of a great deal of comfort. 

Hastur writhed in his sleep, thrashing his head from side to side, and Gregor brought him closer, rubbing his back and reciting what ever poetry first came to mind. It brought back memories of doing similar things with Jack when he had first come to live with them. Gregor laid his head on top of Hastur's. 

Change was inevitable, Gregor reminded himself, and he had never seen Jack so happy. In time, things would settle, and they would be what they would be. Eddie was a lovely Little and Gregor could hardly begrudge him a place here with them, but at the same time he couldn't help but to mourn the loss of his Jack.


	236. Chapter 236

Hastur woke up with a start, and a distinct feeling of unease. He thought he had dreamed of Ligur's death again, but the dream was hazy and fading with each waking moment. He sat up, bracing his back against the wall and clutching his froggy, looking out over the room, just in case. 

Gregor's room was piled with books and papers, and the things that weren't books were all the same alarming shade of pepto-bismol pink. Except...and here Hastur squinted in the darkened room at the object...a doll? 

Hastur wiggled out of the blankets and over the sleeping mirror wraith. He made his way over to the stack of books on which the doll was sitting. He recognized it as the twins’ doll he had thrown water on, when he had first come to the bookshop. 

The doll stared at him with painted eyes and he stared back. He felt, somehow, that the doll wanted him to apologize, which was dumb, it was a doll. Hastur grunted. “I'm not apologizing,” Hastur told the doll, and turned away and crawled back into bed. He closed his eyes and cuddled his frog, bringing Ligur's scarf up to his nose so that he could smell the comforting smell of his daddy. (If you are particularly interested, Ligur smelt like moss with an undertone of some sort of wood Hastur couldn't tell you the name of, but knew Ligur used in his carvings.) 

He couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, but he still couldn't find any comfortable position. He could feel the doll's eyes boring into his back. Hastur got out of bed once again and grabbed the doll roughly. He made his way out of the room and down the hall. 

In the hall it occurred to him that his plan was ill thought out. He wanted to give the stupid doll back to the creepy twins so he could sleep. But...he had absolutely no idea which door was the twins’. He aimlessly walked down the hallway, occasionally openening up a door and grumbling to himself when it wasn't the twins’ nursery. 

He finally opened a door that was a nursery, though Hastur didn't think it was the twins’. But whatever...it would do, he would just dump the doll here and make certain that the door was shut when he left. He walked in the room and felt...uneasy, like someone was watching him, someone that wasn't the stupid little doll. He looked around the room, but there wasn't anyone there. So Hastur just grumbled to himself and walked to the crib to throw the doll in amongst the other dolls and toys. As he was facing the crib he felt a breath on his neck. 

He whirled around, grasping one of the plushies in the crib and chucking it in the general direction of where he thought that the thing was. 

The plushie stopped in midair and Hastur watched as grotesquely long fingers slowly materialized around the plushie's neck. Slowly, a form took shape...and it was horrific, and Hastur had seen horrific. He was, after all, a denizen of Hell. But this thing just looked off, it was unsettling, like something familiar that had been warped and changed in a way that make it alien and grotesque. 

It didn't have a face, really, but Hasur could almost feel it smiling. It dropped the plushie and reached out one of those horrid hands towards Hastur. The demon screamed. Then, in what was a remarkable display of intelligence (when you took into consideration that it was indeed Hasur we were talking about), he ducked under the outstreached arm and ran out the door, still shrieking.


	237. Chapter 237

Crowley was currently in his favorite place to be in the world, comfortably curled up atop a squishy angel. He had woken up while they were both in bed and couldn't go back to sleep, so he had tentatively asked his angel if they could watch television on the sofa until Crowley got sleepy again. Aziraphale obviously said “yes,” terribly pleased that his Little demon was asking for things. 

So Crowley and Aziraphale tucked themselves onto the sofa and Crowley put on an episode of ‘Over the Garden Wall.’ Crowley suddenly sat up, put up a singular finger in the “wait” gesture, then toddled over to where he knew that Aziraphale kept an emergency supply of snacks. He grabbed a box of chocolate truffles and toddled back over to his cushy perch atop his angel. Aziraphale thanked him and made to reach for the truffles, but Crowley yanked them out of his reach and instead picked up one and brought it to his angel's mouth. 

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale cooed, “you spoil me.”

“Yesss,” hissed Crowley proudly. The care and feeding of his angel was of utmost importance to the demon. 

They were having quite a nice time. That is, until Gregor came through the mirror carrying a trembling demon. 

Aziraphale sat up, bringing Crowley with him. “What happened?”

“The thing you encountered the other day seems to still be present, and unfortunately Hastur has encountered it.”

Gregor sat down on the sofa next to Aziraphale and Crowley. Crowley looked at his angel curiously. Aziraphale hadn't told him about running into anything in the mirror realm, which was unacceptable. If Aziraphale had encountered something frightening, Crowley ought to know about it so he could protect his angel. He flicked his tounge unhappily and bared his fangs. “Annngel,” he said seriously. “What happened?”

“Oh...well,” said Aziraphale, flustered. He hadn't really thought the incident was anything to worry his dear snake with. “I was just reading a few of Gregor's books, that he was so kind as to let me borrow, and well...I encountered a rather unsettling presence, and I told Gregor and Helena about it, and that's all really.”

Crowley ran his hands over his angel, looking for any sign of injury. “Did it hurt you, angel?”

“Oh no, dear, I'm perfectly fine,” Aziraphale said, capturing Crowley's hands in his own and giving them a kiss. He turned to Gregor and looked at the unhappy Little demon in his arms. “Is the poor dear alright?”

Gregor rubbed Hastur's back. “I think he will be. He's only very Little, and Littler now, and I think quite shaken.”

“Do you think he'd like a bottle?”

“Yes, I think that might help,” Gregor nodded.

“Will you be alright here,dear?” Aziraphale asked, setting Crowley on the sofa. 

The demon nodded. He looked at Hastur, who looked oddly small and very pale (paler than usual, a shade of white generally only seen on corpses and shut-in albinos). Crowley awkwardly patted him on the back, maybe a little harder than strictly necessary. 

“‘Sss alright. There are lotsss of really weird things in the mirror wraiths’ world. Most of them don't want to eat you or anything...probably.”

Hastur turned his head and fixed his black eyes on Crowley. “This did. I could feel it.” The he tucked his head back into Gregor's shoulder. 

“I think,” Gregor said, when Aziraphale returned, “that it is time we take action.”

“Should I get the others?” queried the angel. 

“No,” said Gregor. “Until we know exactly what we are dealing with we should involve neither the twins nor Helena. If it does turn out to be who I suspect, it is best that they never know.”

“Oh...,” said Aziraphale. He really didn't like the sound of that. “Well, if you think its best.” He inclined his head to Gregor as that feeling of dread wiggled it's way to the surface once more.


	238. Chapter 238

Eddie awoke to knocking on the door. Jack grumpily untangled his unnecessarily long limbs from the covers and got up to go to the door. There was a quiet conversation with what Eddie recognized as Gregor. Eddie heard the door shut and Jack pad over to the bed. Jack stroked his hair. 

“Baby Eddie,” Jack cooed. “I have something to ask you.”

“What?” asked Eddie, with some trepidation. 

“Would you be willing to watch the twins, Crowley, and Hastur for a little bit today? Maybe watch some television with them?”

“Sure,” replied Eddie, relieved that it wasn't anything bad.

“Lovely,” Jack exclaimed. “Now, this is quite important dear, Gregor and Aziraphale and I are going to be talking downstairs in the bookshop, and the twins must not come down there.... Also, Helena shouldn't come down either, but she'll be in here and very busy...hopefully.”

Eddie had never had much luck asking questions, with his parents or with his former employer, but he just couldn't help himself. “Ummm...why?”

“Ahhh,” said Jack, and then paused, looking confused. “Well, I don't want to frighten you, but I don't want to keep things from you either.”

“I won't be scared,” Eddie said firmly, though he really didn't believe what he had just said. 

“Well, someone has been hanging around our home, a mirror wraith, and...Gregor thinks that it might be someone who the twins and Helena used to know, and it would...upset them if they knew. So we're not going to let them know until we have to.”

“Oh...OK,” said Eddie, but it made him feel a bit funny. His parents had often did things that they told him not to tell the other, and that had never ended well.

“Such a good baby,” Jack smiled dopily, and gave Eddie a big wet kiss on his forehead. “Time for morning changies then?”

“Umm...no thank you, I'll get dressed myself.”

“Oh,” Jack's brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

Eddie nodded. 

“Alright,” Jack shrugged, “but if you change your mind just come and tell me baby.”

“‘K,” Eddie said, and sat on the edge of the bed as Jack readied himself. 

Jack gave him another kiss as he left, pausing a moment before he went though the door, as if waiting for Eddie to change his mind and ask for his usual change. 

As soon as he was sure Jack had left, Eddie slid out of bed and gently placed the plushies he had been cuddling on the bed. Then he took his pacifier out and placed it on the table by the bed. He was going to have to be Big today to watch the other Littles, he told himself. He couldn't have all of his baby things. 

He came into a bit of a problem, though. All of the clothes he had in Jack's room were too babyish; diapers and overalls and onesies and shirts with cartoons on them wouldn't do if he was going to be Big. 

He creeped out of Jack's room and down the hall to find his nursery. He took a deep breath before opening the door. 

It still felt weird in his nursery, like something was in there and watching him, but Eddie just told himself that it was all in his head. (He had not yet quite put together what he was sensing with what Jack had just told him.) He noticed a plushie on the floor that hadn't been there the last time he'd been in his room. He picked it up and went over to his crib to put it with all the others. In amongst all of his plushies he found one of the twins’ dolls. That, he thought, explained the plushie on the floor. He debated a while whether he should just leave it or take it back to the twins. In the end, he decided on leaving it. The twins’ dolls usually wandered back to them eventually.

He went over to his changing table and pulled down his pajama pants and untaped his soggy night diaper. He rolled it up and placed it in the diaper pail, then proceeded to wipe himself clean. Once he was done his hand hesitated over the pull-ups, then over a small stack of cloth training pants, but in the end he grabbed a pair of plain black underwear, which were not absorbent in the least. He pulled them on and made a face. 

He didn't like them. It was a strange realization. They felt cold and unfriendly compared to the warm, soft padding of a diaper, and somehow made him feel smaller and more unsafe, instead of bigger like he'd intended them to. He persevered however, and went to look for suitably Big clothes. 

He had only succeeded in picking out a pair of baggy camouflage pants when he felt something move behind him. He turned around and for a moment nothing was there, but then he felt a sharp nail run down the length of his nose. Eddie touched his hand to his burning nose and when he brought it away it was red with blood.... He wasn't dreaming. He stood in shock for a moment more, staring down at his blood-covered hand. He felt streams of warmth running down his legs and he couldn't understand why. 

Then, his brain began to work again. He needed to get out, to warn the others. What if it hurt Jack or the twins? Without wasting time doing anymore thinking, Eddie charged forward. He made contact with something large, but not very solid, and easily pushed it aside. He ran out the door and as he did, he could feel, not hear, something laughing behind him.


	239. Chapter 239

Gregor was rather surprised to be run into by a half-dressed and frightened looking Eddie who was clutching tightly to a pair of gray camouflage trousers. 

He placed one of the hands that was not holding Hastur on Eddie’s shoulder. The Little looked up at him with wide, frightened blue eyes. Gregor took in the scratch on Eddie's nose, still sluggishly bleeding, and his wet pants. 

“You...um know the scary thing you told Jack about? I think I just saw it...in my nursery...and...and I think I saw it before. I think its been in my room for a while now and I'm really, really sorry. I thought I was dreaming and....”

Eddie looked quite near tears, so Gregor just shushed him and patted his shoulder. “It's alright Eddie, no one will be mad at you. It's my fault, really. Hastur saw it in your nursery last night. I didn't think to tell Jack that you shouldn't go there. I didn't think it would still be there. I'm sorry, dear.”

“It's alright,” Eddie said quietly, looking at the floor and very glad that no one was mad at him. He also felt significantly safer now that Gregor was around. 

“Why don't you and Hastur go to the bookshop and wait for me there?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to see about the thing that has been causing so much trouble.”

“No!” Hastur said, squeezing Gregor's neck so tightly that, if Gregor had been just a teeny bit more human, he would have had significant trouble breathing. 

“I want to go with you too,” Eddie said, shuffling his feet. “I don't want you to go alone.”

Gregor nodded. “You must stay behind me and do what I say.”

Eddie nodded and Hastur grunted in a way Gregor had come to know meant ‘yes.’

The mirror wraith set Hastur down beside Eddie and opened the door. Eddie, not giving it a thought, and only doing what felt natural to him, reached over and took Hastur's hand, giving it a squeeze. Hastur squeezed back. 

It didn't take long for Gregor to come back shaking his bald head. “Whatever was there is gone now. I rather suspected it wouldn't hang about when it felt something equally was powerful was close.”

“I'm powerful,” Hastur grumbled. as he was picked up again by Gregor. 

“Oh, I know you are very powerful, Little demon,” Gregor said appeasingly, “but your miracles don't quite work the same way here as they do other places, do they?”

Hastur grunted unhappily. He had found out that particular fact when he had tried to miracle a rather soggy diaper dry and ending up only making it freezing cold instead. He pulled an unhappy face at the memory, resting his head on Gregor's shoulder and sucking his pacifier furiously. 

“I think it would be best if we made our way to the bookshop.”

Eddie nodded. He almost reached out to take Gregor's hand, but quickly drew back. He didn't think that Gregor particularly liked him, though he had never been outright unkind, but distant, and probably wouldn't want Eddie to cling on to him like a needy Little baby. Especially when the mirror wraith already had Hastur to comfort. 

The three made their way down the winding hallways, but as they turned a corner they ran into Helena. Helena, being Helena, noticed something wrong right away. “Oh wants wrong?” she cooed, directing it particularly at Eddie. 

Eddie didn't know what to tell Helena, and just chewed the thumb he had been sucking on and looked distraught. 

“Eddie had a little accident,” Gregor said, gesturing to Eddie's darkened boxers. Eddie looked down, and was for the first time aware that he had wet himself, “and it upset him.”

“Oh, poor sweet thing,” Helena shifted the basket she was carrying further up her arm and cupped Eddie's face with her hands. “A little accident is nothing of great consequence. We'll just get you cleaned up and everything will be alright. You can even wear a new pair of underpants if that's want you want.” Helena largely preferred small, leaky Littles in diapers. They were very cute that way and it was no fuss when they had the inevitable accident. (Also, it saved a good deal of furniture.) But she also thought that one ought to be able to wear whatever pleased them, even if it did mean cleaning up the occasional puddle. 

“I'd...um...like uh...a diaper actually,” Eddie said, his cheeks burning an even brighter red. 

“Oh what a good and sensible choice sweetheart, of course you can have a diaper.... But darling,” she asked, reaching out towards his nose with a long finger, “whatever has happened to your nose?”

Eddie looked to Gregor, who seemed to be telling him with his eyes to say nothing. 

“I accidentally scratched myself when I was sleeping,” Eddie said bashfully, looking to Gregor and hoping he had done the right thing. 

“Hmm...,” said Helena. “I was going to go and collect a few things, but maybe I should stay.”

“I don't think that will be needed,” Gregor said rather swiftly, but calmly. “I'm taking him to Jack and the Littles had plans to watch films later.”

“If you’re certain,” Helena said, looking at Eddie. “I wouldn't mind staying at all.”

“I'm fine,” Eddie said, as convincingly as he could. “I want to watch films with the others.”

“Alright sweetie,” Helena said, pushing a lock of Eddie's hair out of his face. “If you're certian?” she asked again, and Eddie nodded. 

She kissed his forehead, and they all turned in opposite directions to make their respective ways to where they were going. But Helena stopped and turned around, staring at the backs of the retreating three with suspicious eyes.


	240. Chapter 240

Eddie scurried into Jack's arms the second he got through the mirror. Then he pulled back, realizing he was covering Jack with pee, but Jack just pulled him back into a hug as Gregor explained what had happened in his deep, rumbling voice. 

Eddie looked up as he heard an angry hiss and saw Crowley storming towards the mirror. Aziraphale caught the back of the demon's skirt in a pudgy hand. It took a minute for Crowley to realize that, although he was walking, he was no longer moving forward. He turned and hissed, “Annngel!”

“Crowley, I know you are a bit upset, but I won't let you go off and be hurt!”

“It hurt my human Eddie! They're so frail, Aziraphale! We have to protect him!”

Aziraphale pulled his irate, wiggling baby down into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. “I quite agree, dear, but we need to do this sensibly. We’ll discuss it and decide on a course of action. We won't let Eddie be hurt again, dear. Besides,” Aziraphale said, giving Crowley's sagging diaper a pat, “you need a change. I won't let you go on a righteous rampage while soaking wet.”

“Not righteous,” the demon pouted, but didn't make to get up again. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips and motioned Eddie over. Then he placed a single chubby finger on Eddie’s nose and said, “boop.” 

It felt like cool water running over his nose, soothing the warm ache that had been present ever since he'd been scratched. He reached a hand up and no longer felt the long painful line of the scratch. He then scurried over to the mirror to find his nose pale and unblemished once more. 

He looked at Aziraphale in awe and said a quiet, “thank you.”

“No trouble at all, my boy.” The angel smiled back. 

Jack placed a long hand on Eddie's back. “Let's get you cleaned up, baby.”

Jack guided Eddie into the bathroom and helped him up on the changing table. He pried the camouflage pants Eddie hadn’t realized he was still holding out of his death grip and started to hum as he got to work cleaning Eddie up. 

“Sorry,” Eddie said, looking at the ceiling. 

“For what?” Jack asked. 

“Peeing myself,” Eddie mumbled. 

Jack looked blankly at his baby. He didn't understand one bit. Eddie wet himself all the time and Jack changed him. That was just how things went, and Jack was more than happy with it. Eddie caught on to his blank stare and clarified. “I didn't mean to wet this time. I was, uhhh...Big, and I shouldn't have peed on accident. It’s not fair to make you change me when I'm Big.”

Jack shrugged, and he gave an odd little laugh as he shook out a flurry of white baby power onto Eddie. “I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to. Besides I'm...I'm your mommy, aren't I? That's what mommies do.” Jack looked at Eddie rather hopefully. 

Eddie smiled softly. “Of course you're my mommy, but it's still unfair for you to change me when I'm Big and should do it my self.” (Eddie had thought briefly about trying to explain that Jack looked a bit more like a ‘daddy’ than a ‘mommy,’ but he knew a waste of time when he saw it. The mirror wraiths seemed pretty unable to grasp the intricacies of gender, mostly because they largely thought of gender as a pointless little quirk of humanity. Eddie supposed that in the end it really didn't matter. Mommy or Daddy, Jack was a really great Caregiver.) 

Jack's unnervingly wide smile grew when Eddie called him ‘mommy.’ He taped up Eddie's thick diaper and gave him a tummy kiss on the exposed skin above the plastic waistband. “If it would make you feel better,” he said, resting his pointy chin on Eddie's belly, “you could change me when you’re Big and I could change you?”

Eddie nodded fervently. He liked that. It would make him feel much more useful, and far less guilty, if he could in some way take care of Jack.

“Alright then,” Jack smiled wider (and really, how many white, white teeth did he have) and lifted Eddie up so that he could dress him. “Do you still feel like watching the others while we talk about what to do with that nasty old mirror wraith that hurt you?”

Eddie nodded ‘yes.’ He thought he'd feel better cuddled up with the other Littles watching TV. 

After Jack had gotten Eddie's pants on and buttoned over his diaper, he leaned down and placed his forehead against Eddie's. “I am sorry, baby. I should have protected you. I...forget that you're human and a little bit more...fragile than me or the twins. I'll do better though...I won't let you get hurt again. I'll be a better mommy to you.” 

Eddie put his arms around Jack's neck and squeezed. “It's okay, I didn't tell you...and...and you're the best mommy!”

Jack kissed Eddie's hair and just held him for a long time. 

When Jack and Eddie finally came out, the twins were already there, sitting on the sofa with Crowley and Hastur, holding teddy bears with far too many little black glass eyes. Jack gave him one last kiss on the temple and went with Aziraphale and Gregor downstairs, after they had made certain everyone had dry diapers and full sippy cups. As Eddie sat down on the sofa, he was almost squished by a gangly demon pouncing on him, but Eddie hardly minded. He liked the comforting weight of Crowley on his lap. 

He managed to get the remote away from Hastur, saving them all from another several hour long documentry about poison dart frogs. He placated the demon with reassurances that there would be a frog in whatever they watched. He thought that the original ‘Muppets’ might be a good choice. It would probably be weird enough for the twins, and there was a frog in it for Hastur, and Crowley...well...Crowley had very eclectic tastes, but ‘The Muppets’ was a classic. 

He pushed play and settled in, turning his head to make sure that the others were still alright and there. They all were, curled up together, except for Hastur who sat a bit apart, black eyes fixed on the screen every time Kermit appeared. Suddenly it occurred to him that he was sitting with two actual demons, from Hell, and two...well, Eddie wasn't exactly certian what to call the twins.... Eldritch Abominations from another dimension seemed the closest to describing them he could come. They were all diapered and sucking on pacifiers and sippy cups, happily watching TV in a bookshop owned by an angel. 

Eddie leaned back and blinked slowly and for a very long time. His life...had gotten really fucking weird...but somehow...significantly better at the same time...even with ominous nightmare creatures lurking in the shadows. He wasn't quite certain still that he deserved to be here with these bizarre and strangely wonderful creatures, but, Eddie thought, resting his chin on Crowley's head, he really was glad he was.


	241. Chapter 241

Gabriel, as it turned out, had not been smart enough to ward his new rooms in Hell. He had, however, made attempts to spruce the place up. The walls were now a comely dove grey, there were glass tables and soft grey furniture with lilac throw pillows, and a bed draped in violet silks. However, since it was Hell, it still managed to look a bit dingy. Fine cracks could be seen creeping up the walls and the edges of the curtains had started fraying, but Ligur was less interested in the decor of the room and more interested in it's contents. Though he hadn't been very successful in finding anything of particular interest so far. 

He flicked through papers on the sleek, flat desk. They appeared to be papers from Beelzebub's office, though far from important. On the back, scribbled in large blocky letters (all capitols), were what appeared to be poems...that Ligur strongly suspected were written by Gabriel himself. They included such literary triumphs as:

‘I like Beelzebub because

Her flies go buzz, buzz, buzz’

Ligur sighed. Maybe this was a code? But he rather thought that the atrocious poetey was just that, atrocious poetey. 

Ligur sighed as he continued to search the room. He hoped that his Little toad was alright. He hoped that Aziraphale and the mirror wraiths hadn't lost patience with Hastur for his peeing or his tantrums. He hoped that Hastur was getting enough attention. There were, after all, other Littles there needing attention as well, and Hastur needed so very much attention. Was he getting changed promptly? Cuddled when he woke up from a nightmare? Given enough time to play in the bath? 

Ligur closed an empty drawer with a slam. Nothing. Nothing that would tell him why the Archangel Gabriel was in Hell and consorting with Beelzebub. Nothing to take back to Lilith so that he could go back to his Little toad. 

He was going to have to do it. There was no other option. Time was running out. He needed something to take back to Lilith. 

He stood in front of the closet of immaculately pressed gray clothing and took a deep breath. He tugged out the things he thought would be least missed due to their placement, which turned out to be a pair of grey slacks and an equally grey turtle neck. 

He banished his own clothes to the in-between dimension that they tucked themselves nicely into when he transformed into a lizard. Then he donned the Archangel's clothing, which was terrible ill-fitting on him and reeked of angel, and he concentrated very hard on everything he knew about Gabriel. He thought of the way the angel's corporation looked, his odd empty smile and his lilac eyes. He thought of everything he knew about Archangel's personality, all the tidbits that had drifted down from Heaven, all of the dreadful poetry he had just read. 

It was a little trick he had learned, quite unique to him. (Hastur believed it had somthing to do with his true form being a chameleon.) Ligur could trick things, people, and magic into thinking he was someone he was not. Knowledge about the person helped, as did, Ligur had discovered, wearing their clothes. But Beelzebub warded her quarters well, and there was still a great chance that this would not work. Ligur wasn't certain that his knowledge of Gabriel (which currently consisted of that he was a bastard Archangel who liked the colors gray and lavender and was a dismissal poet) would be enough. 

But Ligur needed something desperately, so he stood in front of the doors to Beelzebub's quarters and placed his hand on the heavy brass doorknob and willed himself to turn it. Slowly and laboriously, the door creaked open....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for a new temporary beta reader from the 29th of this month to at least the 4th of May, as mine is taking some time off. If you're interested in getting chapters a day early, but having to fix all of my horrendous spelling, either message me on tumblr (damageddolly666) or at my email thelacespider@gmail.com.


	242. Chapter 242

“Can't we just ward your, errr...house? The way that Helena and the twins warded the bookshop?” Aziraphale queried, after they had all been settled in the bookshop with coffee and tea and hot cocoa. 

Gregor hummmed.... “It is already warded. There is a ward around the large portion of where we go and stronger wards around the rooms we use more frequently. The trouble with them is that our world is more...fluid than yours. It is constantly changing and rearranging, and so the wards often weaken or break. Transient wraiths often wander in the larger portion, but seldom are able to come into our living quarters.”

“So is there no chance of an, errr...exorcism? To get the nasty little thing out?” Aziraphale twisted his pinky ring nervously. He didn't like to think of something so insidious lurking so near his friends, especially after what it had done to poor little Eddie.

“No, there might be,” replied Gregor thoughtfully. “The trouble is it that it would take a great deal of magic, and the only three...errr....”

“Competent magic users?” Jack suggested helpfully, while nibbling on a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie he'd swiped from the tray Aziraphale had left out. 

“Yes,” Gregor agreed amicably. “The only three competent magic users we have cannot be involved.”

“Are you certain that we can’t involve Helena, or the twins at least?” Aziraphale pleaded. It wasn't that he didn't like Jack and Gregor, he adored them, only if he had to choose which mirror wraiths to be on his side in a crisis, neither of them would be his first choice. Or second. (Or third, depending on if you counted the twins as one person or two.) 

“You saw how Helena reacted. If it does turn out to be who I rather suspect it is, knowing will only bring them trouble and pain.”

“I suppose you know better than I,” the angel grumbled, though he was still rather fuzzy on the specifics of this whole matter. “I suppose Eddie isn't yet knowledgeable or strong enough to try?”

Gregor shook his head. “No, and it would be more dangerous for him than anyone else. He is human, and that makes him much more vulnerable than you or the demons.” 

They all fell into contemplative silence, except Jack, who grabbed another cookie and laid down with his head in Gregor's lap. Gregor seemed pleased with this, even though Jack was covering both of them with crumbs.

Aziraphale set his cocoa cup down with a thunk. “What about Anathema?”

“Anathema,” Gregor said slowly. “Yes, that might work. She is human, but she's very...proficient in her craft.”

“Sound's like an idea,” said Jack, who had gotten rather bored. He jumped up, which made Gregor frown, and brushed the crumbs off his bright yellow shirt. “I'll go get her.” He scurried into one of the full length mirrors that had migrated into various places in the bookshop. After a few minutes, Jack’s head popped out of the mirror, and he asked, without a hit of shame, “Ahhh...where does she live again?”

Aziraphale really did fear for them all. Though in the end, Jack did manage to retrieve Anathema and a somewhat befuddled looking Newt. However, he also bought a former courtesan and a grumpy, and even more befuddled, former witchfinder. 

“Ahhh...,” Aziraphale said, on seeing the unexpected arrivals. 

“We were over for tea at Anathema's, dear, and well, we just thought we'd tag along,” Madam Tracy explained. Shadwell grumbled something behind her, but no one paid him any mind. 

“So,” said Anathema primly. “What did you need?”


	243. Chapter 243

Anathema adjusted her glasses as she peered into the book. “It seems doable,” she said. “Especially now that I have Newt.”

“Oh?” questioned Aziraphale, who liked the dear boy, but didn't see how he'd be usefull in the slightest. 

“Yes,” said Anathema, straighting up and talking off her glasses. “We've discovered. Newt is quite a powerhouse of energy. That's why he explodes anything electrical. He overcharges the circuits. It's really quite usefull for powering spells.”

Newt gave a little smile and sat up a bit straighter. 

“When do you want me to do it?” Anathema looked from the mirror wraiths to Aziraphale. 

“As soon as possible,” Gregor said firmly.

“Oh, this is exciting,” Madame Tracy tittered. “Is there anything we can do to help?” 

“I won't do witchcraft,” bellowed Shadwell. 

“Well then, I shall help, if I can, Anathema,” she said, tilting her head towards the witch in question, “and you can stay here.”

“I will not!” Shadwell grumped, crossing his arms and slumping back. “I'll go with, but I won't help.”

“That's fine, dear,” Madam Tracy said, patting Shadwell on the knee. 

Anathema stood and straightened her long purple skirt. “Well then, Newt and I will go and gather some supplies.”

Newt and Jack stood as well, and Jack offered them each an arm as they walked back through the mirror. 

“Papa,” Crowley called, as he barreled in without knocking (because demons didn't knock), trailed by Eddie and Hastur. They all stopped short when they realized that there were unfamiliar faces staring at them. 

Eddie quickly took out his pacifer and shoved it into one of his pants pockets. Crowley tugged on the hem of his skirt, hoping his rather wet diaper wasn't sagging so far as to be peeking out underneath. Hastur just sort of curled in on himself and growled. 

Madame Tracy's face lit up. “Babies!” she exclaimed, opening her arms in invitation. 

Crowley and Eddie shared a somewhat frightened look. Crowley squinted at the woman...and somethimg in his little brain audibly clicked. She'd been Aziraphale, or at least hosted him in her body for a short time. That somehow made her a little less frightening. The demon looked to Aziraphale, who's face was encouraging. The angel nodded, and Crowley slowly and carefully crept towards the woman. 

He ended up in her lap, sightly worried that he was squishing her, as she cuddled him and looked him over. 

“Oh, don't you look so much better than the last time I saw you, dearie! You look so much less pale and drawn...and isn't your dress pretty, little darling!”

Crowley yelped a little behind his pacifier as he felt a hand on his diapered bottom. 

“And properly diapered too, oh hasn't your Daddy been taking good care of you?” 

“Ahhh....,” Aziraphale said, watching Madame Tracy fuss over his baby, “you errr...don't seem particularly surprised to find out that Crowley is a Little.”

Madam Tracy turned her gaze on him with a slightly furrowed brow. “Of course not, he is so obviously a Little, anyone with eyes could tell...and oh! Oh!... You didn't...you didn't know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update : I have found a shiny new replacement beta. Thank you to everyone who messaged me.💕


	244. Chapter 244

“No, I didn't,” said Aziraphale tersely. If he'd had his feathers out, they would have been ruffled.

Crowley sniffed, snuggled into Madam Tracy's neck as he was. “I was very good at being Big.”

Madam Tracy smiled fondly, in the way she often did at Sargent Shadwell, and petted the demon’s red curls. “I'm sure you were, darling. Now,” she said, turning her attention to the two other Littles, “who are these other darling babies?” 

“Well, the one in front is Eddie, he's Jack's Little, and the other is Hastur, we're watching him while his daddy is away,” explained the angel. 

Hastur grunted, largely ignoring everyone, and went to curl up on Gregor's lap. Eddie, however, slowly and cautiously went towards the woman, who was holding out the hand that wasn't currently petting Crowley. 

Meanwhile, Shadwell was staring at Hastur and Hastur was staring at Shadwell. Hastur grunted at Shadwell, Shadwell grunted at Hastur, and just like that, they both relaxed as some sort of odd, nonverbal raport was established between the two grumpy creatures. 

Eddie eventually sat by Madam Tracy, who cooed over him just as much as she had over Crowley, and deftly managed to retrieve his pacifier from the pocket of his pants and coax it into his mouth, which seemed to relax him, making him look all the more darling. 

“I do hate to interrupt,” Gregor said, “but where are the twins?”

“Oh,” said Eddie, remembering why they had come here in the first place. “They're still watching TV, but...ummm...they want us to all go and play in the mirror world in...umm...the room with the trees? They say it has swings and a pond for Hastur to play in. But, you know...the thing is there...and I don't know what to tell them?”

Madame Tracy, sensing the Little’s distress, rubbed his back as Gregor thought. 

“Well, I hardly think it's a good idea,” huffed the Angel. “Look what it did to poor Eddie!”

“No,” said Gregor slowly. “I think it might be perfect. The mirror wraith is only a real danger to Eddie.”

“Errr...why?” asked Eddie, who then looked immediately sorry for interrupting. 

“When humans are frightened they exude...chemicals that are...extremely pleasing to us.” Gregor looked far away and licked his lips, like he was recalling something particularly delicious. Then he came back to himself, shook his head, and continued. “Some of us do nothing more than seek this pleasure out by frightening humans, by whatever means possible.”

"”So it wants to scare me.”

Eddie didnt like where this was going. 

“Yes, that motive we know for certain. But it won't bother you when you are near other mirror wraiths, especially the twins. The twins are...exceedingly powerful. If you and the demons and the twins go to the tree room to play, there should be no danger to you. And it will provide us with a very good opportunity to get rid of the thing once and for all.”

“Do you really think that you can get rid of it?” asked Eddie, who really, really wanted this thing to go away. He wanted to play in his nursery again and stop having that terrible feeling of something watching him all the time. 

“Certainly, my dear,” said Aziraphale. “You just go play and we'll have the nasty old thing out of here in no time.”

Eddie nodded and went to slip off the sofa. Crowley seemed reluctant to go, however. He looked up at Madam Tracy. “You'll be here when we get back?” asked the demon, who was sort of eager for more cuddles and cooing from the slightly unconventional human, who seemed to mind neither that he was a Little or a demon. 

Madame Tracy beamed. “If you will have me, dear.” 

“Oh, of course,” Aziraphale said, clapping his pudgy hands together. He was pleased that Crowley had taken to Madame Tracy so well, and he thoroughly approved of how much Madame Tracy had fussed and cooed over his darling Little demon. “You can all stay for dinner!”

Crowley seemed satisfied with this and slid off Madame Tracy's lap. 

Eddie took his hand, and then went to gather up the grumpy lump curled up on Gregor's lap that was the demon Hastur. 

Eddie looked back one more time before he went out the door, still a little unsure. 

“It will be alright,” Gregor's deep voice rumbled. “Go and play with the twins, have a nice time, and when you are done, that mirror wraith will not be here to bother you any longer.”

Lots of people had lied to Eddie over the years: Nathaniel, his parents, Annie, his teacher, his friends, everyone in the coven, Nathaniel, that one guy who told him he'd pay him twenty pounds if he gathered up all the cigarette butts from the parking lot of his liquor store, his brother, Nathaniel, (did he mention Nathaniel?) and in general, Eddie didn't trust things he was told by anyone really. But he felt now, somewhere deep in his gut, that Gregor wasn't lying to him. He nodded, and headed out the door with Crowley and Hastur to go find the twins. 

He really hoped his gut was right.


	245. Chapter 245

Anathema frowned at the pendulum as it swung faster and faster, and in a wider and wider circle. "We're getting closer. I believe, " Said Anathema adjusting her glasses,"that it is in this room. Hand me the bags, Gregor, Jack do you have gloves?"

Gregor and Jack did, and Anathema handed out bags to them, and Aziraphale and Madame Tracy. Sargent Shadwell grabbed one as well, and mumbled something unintelligible. 

'Now, I believe it is in this room, and we want to chase it straight down this hall," said Anathema helpfully pointing in the direction she wished to chase it, " what we need to do is to spread this in a straight line in front evey door untill... Where does the warding end? "

"Just after the blue door" Gregor replied. 

Madam Tracy nodded, he earrings jingling. "I think we can handle that dear."

And so they all set about pouring lines of, well no one new exactly what it was besides Anathema, in front of doors. Then they all gathered back up around the witch "What now?" Asked Madame Tracy, fairly eagerly. 

"Now we chase it out, and seal the warding behind it. Gregor and Jack should leave. This is meant to be somewhat toxic to mirror wraiths, and I don't want them to be affected badly."

"Why don't you two wait in the bookshop, dears ?" Aziraphale suggested, wringing his pudgy hands together. This whole thing made him very nervous. 

"Will it linger? I don't want Helena or the twins to wander down this way and be ill affected?" Gregor asked, he displayed as much emotion as he usually did, which was none at all, but Jack could tell he was on edge. Jack reached over and twined his too-tong fingers with Gregor's. 

"No" replied Anathema succinctly, "we'll clear everything away. Aziraphale will fetch you when we're done. 

Gregor looked somewhat reluctant but nodded, and he and Jack went back trough the mirror. 

Anthema passed out little bundles of dried herbs and lighters, Shadwell grumbled as he was was passed his, but took it anyway. 

"Now, Newt and I will go in and chase it out and you stand just outside the door so that it can't go in that direction. Then we chase it down the hall to the end of the warding, and I will seal the ward. As soon as Newt and I enter the room light your smudging stick. And remember, " said the witch, looking quite seriously at each of them," don't be afraid."

"What do we chant" Shadwell asked in a quiet sort of bellow, because in order for spells to work you needed to chant something, preferably in Latin. 

Anathema pursed her lips. She didn't know why people though part of being a witch was babbling nonsense. What did saying things do? You needed to preform an action to get a reaction. That was how magic worked, that was how most things worked. "You don't need to chant anything. The smoke from the smudging stick is toxic to mirror wraiths, and it will naturally seek to escape from it."

Shadwell grumbled about it not being a proper exorcism without chanting, but no one was really listening to him, except Madame Tracy who patted his hand placatingly. 

Anathema gathered herself up, made certian Newt was following her, and entered the room. Both Newt and Anathema could feel something watching them as they each went to the back corners of the room and lit their smudging sticks. After a few moments of tense silence, they heard an ugly wet sort of gurgling growl and something lage and dark started to flicker in and out of view in the middle of the room. 

Newt audibly gulped, but dutifuly followed Anathema as she slowly and deliberately stepped forward, blowing smoke at the thing. 

They got it out of the door and into the hall and Aziraphale, Madam Tracy and Sargent Shadwell kept it from turning back as Anathema and Newt ushered it down the hallway. 

It was all going very well, so obviously, something had to go wrong. (It could be theoriesed that the proximity to Aziraphale and Crowley and their terrible, terrible luck, was responsible for the foiling of Anathema's excellent plan, but that's only a theory. ) 

About halfway down the hall, the mirror wraith seemed to catch on to what they were doing, and decided that it no longer wished to cooperate. In a flurry of darkness and long limbs it suddenly whirled around and sensing he was the waekest of the lot, went for Newt. 

Anathema pushed him aside, and blew smoke at the mirror wraith, which made it hiss and jerk back. But Anathema had pushed Newt into a room (the door on which wasn't closed, because the room didn't have a door, the reason why involved Jack and the twins and a hatchet and a reenactmention of a certain Kubrick film.) and broken the protective line that had been poured in front of the door, and the mirror wraith noticed, and made a dive for the opening, pushing past Newt and grazing his shoulder, making him shudder. 

They all gathered in the door way and stared into the now empty room, which had several other open arching doorways in it, perfect for rogue mirror wraiths to flee through. 

"Well fuck" said Newt, which perfectly encapsulated the feelings of everyone present. Except Sargent Shadwell, who knew they should have chanted.


	246. Chapter 246

The room of trees was just that: a room of trees. And Eddie wondered why he bothered to be surprised by things anymore. There were quite a few specimens in the contained forest, but not so many that Eddie could no longer see the mauve patterned wallpaper through them. Most had some sort of swing hanging from them, and as they walked further into the room a small pond became visible. Hastur ran towards it immediately, and Eddie took off in a sprint after him. With a little help from the twins, the human managed to wrestle the clothes off the demon and get him in a swim diaper.

As soon as they let go of him, Hastur scuttled on all fours to the pond and disappeared under the water until only a mop of white hair and a pair of black eyes were visible.

Eddie smiled. Hastur wasn't really a bad sort when he was properly taken care of (and not kidnapping Crowley). Eddie poured out plastic frog toys from one of the bags they had packed, and set them on the edge of the pond, "Will you be okay here if we go and play in the trees?"

Hastur grunted in a way Eddie took to mean 'yes', so Eddie went to go and play with the others. 

The twins were currently attempting to shove a wiggling Crowley into an old fashioned, wicker baby swing. They succeeded, through Crowley grumped about it, and took turns pushing him. They eventually bored of it, and asked Eddie to push them on the swings. Eddie gladly did. Then they climbed trees and played on the ropes hanging off them. Crowley, oddly enough, seemed to be able to bonelessly slither up trees.

Eddie was having fun, red faced and laughing. He was happy and carefree in a way he had never been as an actual child. Anything troubling seemed very far away in this moment.

They claimed down from the trees for diaper changes and drank sippy cups of juice. Eddie attempted to coax Hastur out of the pond...but unsurprisingly met with no success. Eddie ended up just handing the sippy cup to Hastur while he was still immersed in the water. Eddie supposed it really didn't matter if Hastur peed in the pond and his swim diaper didn't contain everything.

They lay on the mossy carpet for a while with their sippy cups. Eddie closed his eyes, cuddling up with Crowley and the twins, enjoying his juice and the feeling of his thick cushy new diaper and being - almost -outside for the first time in a while. His relaxation was cut short however when the twins finished their sippy cups and demanded to play again.

The twins pushed Eddie and Crowley on the swings, this time Crowley got to sit on one of the big swings. Though it didn't work out particularly well as Crowley managed to tumble out of his swing while he was swinging. He landed in a heap of limbs. The twins helped him up, and Eddie looked the blushing demon over. He didn't seem to be hurting anywhere but his pride.

"You should have stayed in the baby swing," One of the twins told him, in that lovely tactless way they possessed.

"Definitely, you're too Little and slippery to hold on."

Crowley made a noise like a seagull being strangled, but didn't further protest when the twins ushered him back in to the baby swing. All and all, Eddie thought Crowley looked much happier in a swing where he didn't have to support himself. The demon even layed back the best he could and closed his eyes, sucking his pacifier as the back and forth motion lulled him. Eddie wondered if maybe he should ask Aziraphale or one of the mirror wraiths if they would set up a swinging bassinet in the trees. He thought the demon might like to nap in one when he was feeling especially little, and to be honest a nap in a swinging bassinet didn't sound half bad to him either.

Eddie soared higher and higher on his own swing, while the twins pushed Crowley. He peed his diaper while he swung, and didn't feel a bit of shame for it, the warm wetness only adding to his exhilaration. 

He opened his eyes again to take in the tress blurring past him, and he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. He thought it might be Hastur, finally come out of the pond, and needing to be dried off and changed and dressed, so he dragged his heels to stop the swing, and when the world had finally stilled he looked to the spot he had seen Hastur in, but it wasn't Hastur.... It definitely wasn't Hastur. There, lurking in the trees, was a mirror wraith, and Eddie somehow knew without a shred of doubt that it was the one that haunted his nursery.

The twins noticed something was wrong and came up alongside him to see what he was looking at, and Eddie was relived. The twins would chase it off. What he was not expecting was for them to emit twin shrieks of "Mama!" and run over to the mirror wraith, hugging and climbing up the horrid creature as if it were one of the trees.

Eddie stood frozen as it turned up its face towards him. It had no perceivable features, but he could feel it smiling at him.


	247. Chapter 247

Anathema led the group, which Jack and Gregor had rejoined, swiftly through the halls. The witch didn't appreciate failure - especially when it was her own. It was her fault that the wraith had gotten away and she had every intention of fixing that.

She flung open a door, and was slightly surprised to find it full of trees. Rooms, in her experience, usually did not contain trees. Things made from trees yes, but not the giants themselves, whole and living. Undeterred, Anathema strode through the trees guided by the pendulum, the rest of their motley little group following behind. She came to abrupt stop when she saw the scene playing out before her.

Hastur popped out of the pond and scurried over to them. Sargent Shadwell, pushed the demon behind him and grunted in a manner that was meant to be comforting. (Since Hastur was still naked except for the swim diaper, Shadwell could be assured that Hastur had the appropriate number of nipples.) Gregor embraced the little, not caring that he was getting covered in pond water.

Crowley, his snaky pupils blown wide, finally registered the appearance of his angel (along with other, less important people). After looking wildly from his angel to Eddie, who was still standing petrified, staring at the twins and their "mama", he rushed over to the human, grabbed his arm and dragged him to the others.

By this time, the twins had seen what was going on, and they happily tried to lead their "mama" to the group. She kept swatting at the twins with her unnaturally long fingered hands, as if they were particularly bothersome flies she wished to shoo away. The twins, undeterred, simple ducked her swats, and continued to pull at her.

They smiled brightly as they drew near, "This is our mama!"

"And Mama, this is Crowley, and Aziraphale, and Jack, and Gregor, and Hastur and other humans we don't know!"

"Oh well..." Aziraphale cleared his throat, "This is Anathema and Newt, Madam Tracy and Sargent Shadwell."

"Hello," the twins chirped in unison, waving at the rather stunned humans.

"Hello," Madam Tracy ventured back. To her, left Shadwell only managed a distressed grunt.

The twins tried to peer to the back of the group searching for the other Littles. "Crowley, Eddie, Hastur!"

"Come out and play!"

"Don't be frightened, it's only our Mama!"

Rather involuntarily, Crowley flicked his little tongue out in a hiss.

"Umm..... " Said Eddie, trying to think of a way to say that he indeed did not want to play with the twins "mother' and if fact would very much like it if she went somewhere very far away- the bottom of the Marianas Trench for instance. He was saved from having to say anything by "mama" wrenching herself out of the twins grasp, giving a growl and leaving. The twins blinked after her.

"She'll be back," one said, though they did not sound particularly sure.

The other twin nodded. "You know what we should do?"

The first twins eyes lit up, "Tell Helena!"

They went to scurry off but Gregor called after them, "We're going to have dinner in the bookshop, in a bit. You can invite Helena as well."

"Can we invite Mama?"

"I, ah, don't think she would care for it. She doesn't eat after all....at least not things that are already dead," Gregor added the last bit under his breath.

The twins nodded, and scurried off.

Gregor sighed deeply, closing his eyes, and clutching the still damp Hastur to him.

"That,” said Gregor, "is the absolute worst thing that could have happened."

"Unfortunately the worst thing that can happen, oft seems to often be the most likely thing to happen," Aziraphale noted. "And.... Well, that is the twins.... Err.... Mother... Isn't it? Maybe she isn't entirely dreadful? "

Gregor leveled him with a look.

"Ah.... Yes, well, it was a hope," said the angel.

Gregor opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a scruffy coat being shoved in his face. He stared at it, as Shadwell grunted and shook it, obviously wanting him to take it. It took a minute for the mirror wraith to realize that Shadwell meant the coat for the mostly naked Hastur, who was shivering in his arms.

Gregor didn't think it was from the cold but he took the coat gratefully and and wrapped it around the Little. Aziraphale patted Gregor's arm and passed Crowley to Madam Tracy, who couldn't hold Crowley the way that Aziraphale could, but could provide comforting cuddles all the same. "I'll go and gather up the Little's things."

"I'll help," said Anathema, who could taste the bitterness of failure creeping into her mouth. 

"Um..... Me too..." added Newt, pushing his glasses up his nose, desperate to do anything that wasn't standing awkwardly around. 

They gathered up the things that the Littles had brought with them, and Newt scooped up all the little plastic frogs out of the pond. Then they all trooped back down the winding halls of the mirror world, with the same amount of cheer as the average funeral procession. Each feeling that something terrible had just occurred.


	248. Chapter 248

"Couldn't we just get rid of her? While the twins are away?" Aziraphale asked as he ran a hand down Crowley's spine. The demon was laying most of the way in his lap, but his head was buried in Madam Tracy's middle as she stoked his hair.

"No," replied Gregor, shaking his head, "It was one thing when I didn't know for certain - when it was just a random wraith that had snuck through the wards and was causing trouble. Edgar and Ellen would be devastated it they found out we had chased their hmm... 'Mother' out. I won't go behind their backs like that."

"Fair point," Aziraphale sighed, "but I still don't like this - especially after what she did to poor little Eddie."

"I'm worried about those sweet Little twins," Madam Tracy said, "Should they really be alone around something like that?"

"The twins consider her their mother, as regrettable as that may be, and she poses little physical harm to them. They are quite a bit stronger than her," Gregor replied.

"There are more kinds of harm than physical," said Madam Tracy as she continued to stroke Crowley's hair, staring lovingly down at the Little, watching his eyes flutter shut and his pacifier bob up and down with increasing slowness.

"The twins are quite resilient. It's more Helena I worry about. From what she had told me, she and the twin's mother don't exactly...Get on."

'Yes, I'm beginning to see that," said Aziraphale. He did hope, however, that someone, sometime, would get around to helpfully elaborating. He almost asked, but was interrupted by the return of Jack and an extremely red faced Eddie.

Eddie had had a bit of a messy accident upon seeing Edgar and Ellen's "Mama", which absolutely no one considered an unreasonable reaction. Eddie, though, was terribly ashamed.

"Oh, darling," called out Madame Tracy shifting the sleepy demon a little so that he was sitting on Aziraphale's lap, but resting his head on her shoulder. She reached out to Eddie with the hand that wasn't still stoking Crowley's hair, "Why don't you come and sit with Nana? "

The name slipped easily from her lips: It was the name she had often used with her Little clients. She didn't exactly mean to use it now, she didn't want to overstep, but it so naturally fell from her lips.

Eddie shuffled over, never once looking up, and plopped down on the sofa next to Madam Tracy, immediately hiding his face in her shoulder. She began to stroke his hair and coo,"It's nothing to be ashamed of love. It's perfectly natural. Especially for a Little. "

Eddie made an unhappy noise that sounded far to close to tears for her liking. So, she took a finger and raised Eddie's chin up.

"Look, love, was your Daddy mad at you?"

Eddie shook his head and sniffed. 

"Look around, do any of us seem disgusted?"

Eddie scanned to room with watery blue eyes. No one seemed particularly bothered. Aziraphale, Jack, Newt and Gregor all smiled at him. Anathema did as well, but it was a slightly odd smile (she felt terribly awkward around Littles). Hastur was sleeping, curled up into an adorable little ball of spite on Gregor's lap, still swaddled in Shadwell's coat. The owner of said coat was mumbling to himself, and seemed to be paying no attention to any of them. Crowley opened his sleepy yellow eyes and slumped forward off Aziraphale's lap to hug the human. Crowley nuzzled into Eddie, which made Madame Tracy coo all the more.

"There you are dear, no one thinks badly of you."

Eddie looked down at Crowley, and back up to his daddy, who was smiling his stupid, unnaturally wide smile. He relaxed into Madam Tracy.

The entire thing made Aziraphale a bit jealous. It all seemed so effortless for the human. Crowley and Eddie seemed to gravitate o her immediately, and she seemed to know exactly what to say to soothe them. It had taken ages to get the the Littles to stop being uncomfortable with him...and he still didn't always say the right things to comfort them...and he was an angel for Heaven's Sake! He radiated divine comfort! It really wasn't fair.

The angel didn't have long to stew in his envy, as Edgar and Ellen popped through the mirror dragging Helena behind them. Aziraphale was aghast when he saw his dear friend.

He had seen the horrors of Earth, whether they were created by man or God, angel or demon. He had seen the incomparable desolation of humans who found everything they had ever know destroyed in acts of God, the realization dawning on them they too had no chance of escaping the devastation. He had seen soldiers watch their friends being mowed down by enemy bullets. He had seen the condemned walk to the gallows. They all had worn the same expression of resigned fear. They knew what dread fate was coming, that they were entirely powerless to stop it... and that was the expression that his dear friend...that Helena now wore as the twins happily greeted everyone.

The sense of foreboding that had taken up residence in Aziraphale's gut rose up once again with an unhappy vengeance.


	249. Chapter 249

'Bingo!" Gabriel shouted happily, placing his cards on the table.

Beelzebub rubbed her temples, "We're playing gin, you moron - and how the fuck do you have sszzeven sevenszz?"

"It's a holy flush,” Sniffed the Archangel.

"That isn't.... That's not.... " Beelzebub stood up, “Fuck it, I'm getting drinkzzzz."

Gabriel looked at the demon Prince without understanding, "I don't want a drink."

"They're for me, “ Beelzebub replied, and turned to go and raid her liquor cabinet.

Gabriel shook his head, he really didn't understand Beelzebub sometimes. He amused himself while she was away by gathering up all of the playing cards and attempting to shuffle them by arching half the deck in each hand and letting the fall together like Beelzebub had done earlier. She had done it without the use of a miracle, so obviously if Beelzebub could do it in this manner, he could as well.

Cards flew everywhere. Gabriel frowned at the mess he was going to have to pick them up...the human way. Beelzebub had been harping on him lately about "laying low" in Hell by "not using a fucking miracle for every Goddamned thing." (If Gabriel had the teeniest shred of self awareness, he might have seen the irony in this).

He began to clumsily scoop up cards. They had gone farther then he had expected, and he had to bend down and half crawl under a table to retrieve a few. He reached for a card that had landed on the floor near a large crack in the wall, and he was surprised to see a pair of eyes staring back at him.

"Hello little creature," He cooed in a voice that might be described at best as saccharine, “Come here. I'm an angel." He said, as if that was supposed to be a comfort. 

The creature did not come towards Gabriel, but scuttled further back into the darkness. So Gabriel used a little miracle to yank it out. He then grabbed at and held the squirming writhing creature in his large hands.

"Oh, " he said smiling his far too shiny smile, "aren't you cute?"

Not as cute of course, as some of the things he had created, but still, cute.

The lizard tried to bite him.

Gabriel tickled it under the chin, and made dope faces at it at it while assaulting it with baby talk. He was aware of the human concept of "keeping pets" and he thought he might take it up. The lizard seemed to sort of like him. (Like bei g a relative term) He would need a cage, he thought, as the lizard tried to claw it's way out of his grasp, and also to learn what lizards ate.

"Why the fuck are you holding Ligur?" Asked an unamused Beelzebub.

Ligur? Gabriel blinked as his brain begain the intense and painful process of creating a thought. Ligur was... A demon. He was holding a demon. Gabriel blinked down at the lizard in his hands, the lizard blinked wildly back. Then Gabriel did the first and only thing he could think of, he tossed Ligur into the air.

The lizard made a sicking crunch as it hit the ceiling, followed by a grotesque splat as it hit the floor. Blood pooled around Ligur's little lizard form as it lay broken and mangled on the floor, giving only the occasional twitch.

Beelzebub walked over to poke the corpse with the toe of a shiny black shoe. "I think," she said slowly " that Lucifer knows you’re here, and sent this bastard to spy on you."

Her mouth twisted into a grimace, this didn't look good for her. Spending so much time with an angel would look a lot like treason from an outsider's prospective.

Gabriel walked to her side, looking down at the lizard's small broken body. He had done that to the demon, and for once maiming a demon hadn't felt like the right thing to do. In fact, the Archangel felt oddly sick.

“We're going to have to do something about this,” Beelzebub said, crossing her arms and scowling “We need to go to Lucifer.”

And Gabriel felt sicker still.


	250. Chapter 250

Things had grown significantly stranger and increasingly tense in the days after 'Mama' had arrived. Helena was almost nowhere to be seen these days, while Crowley, Aziraphale, Eddie, and Hastur rarely entered the mirror realm, and as a consequence Jack and Gregor had mostly moved into the bookshop as well.

Occasionally, Edgar and Ellen would invite Crowley or Eddie to play with them, and one of both of them would oblige. They had asked Hastur too, but he threw a cataclysmic temper tantrum, managing to pee on Gregor's favorite sweater, Aziraphale's third best rug, the sofa, a bed and had nearly soiled a stack of books before he was found by Gregor, who held him tightly and assured him that no one was going to make him go into the mirror if he didn't want to. Hastur seemed placated with that, but Gregor double diapered him and didn't let the demon out of his sight for awhile after that just to be safe.

To be fair, though Crowley supposed he didn't have to be (he was after all a demon), the twins 'Mama' hadn't actually done anything particularly terrible as of late. Then again... she hadn't really had the opportunity.

Her presence made playing with the twins significantly less fun, but Crowley could see what the twins were trying to do. They were trying (very hard indeed) to integrate 'Mama' into their group of family and friends - though Crowley couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

'Mama' didn't cuddle the twins or give them bottles or change their diapers or play with them. In fact, she often seemed annoyed by their very presence, though as far as Crowley could see they tried very hard to entertain and please her. 'Mama' would growl and swat them away, and often simply leave altogether. And when she was in the room all she ever seemed to do was hover over them creepily, occasionally petting their hair and making odd noises that strongly reminded Crowley of a door creaking open. The demon didn't understand why they seemed so happy to have her around.

Currently, Crowley, the twins, Eddie, Jack, Aziraphale, and, unfortunately, 'Mama' were all in the mirror wraiths' sitting room playing with dolls. Well, the Littles were playing, Aziraphale was watching them over a book whose pages he'd yet to turn, while Jack was dissecting what had once been a perfectly good pocket watch, (the pocket watch it should be noted was mercifully not Aziraphale's), and Mama was...hovering.

If one was so inclined, they would have been able to cut the atmosphere with a knife. Crowley tried to concentrate on the game, but he was finding it difficult. He wanted to give the twins' 'Mama' the benefit of the doubt. The twins, after all, were unsettling in their "human" forms and horribly disturbing in their natural ones... but even when they wore their unnaturally elongated and faceless - and terrifying - forms they never made Crowley feel quite so unnerved as he did around mama. There was just something wrong with her, and that was staying something coming from an actual denizen of hell.

It was especially apparent today. 'Mama' seemed restless. She was flitting in and out of the room, flickering inbetween visibility and invisibility, her usual disturbing hover more of a prowl. It was making everyone except the twin's rather uneasy.

Crowley was just claiming his dolly Lenore to be the most powerful witch in the land, when the lights began to flicker and the walls seems to pulse. He involuntarily hissed and felt a steady stream of pee soak the thick diaper between his legs. Eddie grasped Crowley's arm and Crowley heard Aziraphale gasp. 

"Really now- !" the Angel began, but the twins interrupted,

"It's OK, Mama's just restless." Their eyes pleaded for their friends to understand.

"Mama, Mama,"one of them cried " why don't you make our dolls float, like you used to?"

The twin held out a doll to their 'Mama', a porcelain one with bouncy blonde curls and delicate little smile.

'Mama' flickered a bit so that she was fully visible, and looked at the doll, tilting her head sideways like a bird. She reached out a grotesque hand, stretching her long fingers to touch to cool porcelain.

For a moment Crowley thought that the twins had found a way to calm her and that she really was going to make the dolls fly around the room and they were all going to have a grand old time. However.... As 'Mama's' fingers made contact with porcelain her head snapped back upright and she brought her hand back with a snarl. 

The doll violently flew out of the twin's hands and smashed on the floor. A little glass eye rolled over and bumped into the twin's knee. Edgar and Ellen looked devastated. They looked up to their 'Mama' with shiny eyes and asked in one quite strangled voice said "Mama?"

This seemed to irritate 'Mama', and she snarled again, turning away from the Littles and floating out of the room. The twins shared a look then turned to Crowley and Eddie.

"It's alright," they said, but both said so with a tell tale sniff.

"Mama's just in a mood today."

"She isn't like this all the time!"

"We promise!"

"We can play later."

Then they both got up and ran out of the room after their 'Mama'.

Crowley stared at the broken porcelain shards that used to be a face, and decided that he didn't want to play with the twins in the mirror realm anymore. He scurried up and ran into Aziraphale's arms. Eddie was not far behind.

"Darling," said Aziraphale, rubbing the demon's back soothingly, "I don't think we should come here again.” Crowley quickly nodded.


	251. Chapter 251

"We have to know," Beelzebub said, crossing her arms and glaring at the archangel. 

Gabriel backed away from the Prince, "I need more time...maybe She hasn't decided yet."

Beelzebub took a menacing step closer, Gabriel's back hit the wall. Cornered, the archangel blurted in a whine, "I'm not... I'm not ready to know! What if I have fallen? W-what will become of me? I wouldn't make a good demon, I'm too pretty!"

"You won't be for long if you become a demon," Beelzebub muttered.

Gabriel's violet eyes widened. "Will I end up like you?" He asked horrified, gesturing vaguely to his face, staring at Beelzebub's which was once again pocked with patches of boils and putrescent flesh.

"Yesz," Beelzebub answered bluntly, she was nit particularly inclined to sugar coating (there was, after all, no need to give the underlings any more reason to try and lick the walls.) "We are all condemned to rot szzo long as we are in Hell." The prince paused, "but you may rot lezzzz than I, and in different placeszz. And szzzomtimes you may not rot at all, and when you do I will lend you zzzzome of my maggots to clean the rotten flesh away."

Beelzebub had meant this to be comforting, but Gabriel did not find it so and let out a strangled groan. He slumped to the floor letting his head fall in hands, "...I can't do this."

Beelzebub gave an unhappy buzz, "Then turn around and closzze your eyezzz so I can zzzzee."

Sensing that there was no other option, Gabriel slowly and laboriously got up off the floor, taking his time to straighten his lavender turtleneck and brush the nonexistent dirt from his gray trousers before turning his back to the Prince of Hell.

Beelzebub tapped a foot impatiently. "Get on with itttt then, " She hissed. 

Gabriel took a deep breath squeezed his eyes shut as he unfurled the awing wings of an Archangel.

He felt a small (likely very grubby) hand reach out and card through the feathers. 

"What a fucking messzzzz" Beelzebub said, giving a few feathers a gentle yank to put them back into place.

"Are they.... Are they black?" asked Gabriel who had meant to casually pose the question and failed quite miserably.

"They are....dizzzzguszztingly white as ever."

Gabriel sagged in relief, his white wings drooping to touch the floor. Then a thought occurred to him. He whipped around to face Beelzebub, his dark brows furrowed.

"Why? Why haven't I fallen? I've done everything wrong! I've disobeyed! I've questioned God! I've thought for myself! I've even consorted with the likes of you!" Here the Archangel gestured up and down with a large hand at Beelzebub, "Any one of those offenses should have been enough to condemn me to fall. So.... Why haven't I?"

Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, "I have no fucking clue. Thiszzzz iszzz what you wanted iszzn't it?"

Gabriel sat down on the ground with a thud, his long white wings trailing behind him. He looked down at his hands then back up at Beelzebub, his usual bravado quieted in doubt, "I... I don't know."

It was certainly what Gabriel had thought he wanted, but now that he had it...

"...I really don't know."


	252. Chapter 252

"Hastur's er...sad," Eddie informed Aziraphale. It would likely have probably been more pragmatic to inform Gregor, but Eddie was still rather scared of him.

'Oh, I know,” said the angel, stroking the sleeping Crowley's hair, "The poor thing does miss his daddy dreadfully, and well...it has been quite awhile. I do hope Ligur is alright."

Eddie fidgeted with the stuffed raven he was holding. "I...umm... I actually had an idea to cheer him up a little..." He very purposely didn't look at the angel, instead occupying himself with the pattern of the Aziraphale's fourth best rug. 

"Really, dear? How very clever of you!" He patted the spot next to himself and his sleepy serpent on the sofa, "Why don't you come up here and tell me what it is?"

Eddie sat next to the angel, and Aziraphale placed the napping demon in his arms. This served the intended purpose of relaxing the rather skittish Eddie a little.

"You know how Hastur likes Kermit? Ummm... Kermit the Frog... from the Muppets?"

Aziraphale did, in fact, know that every time anyone tried to watch television with Hastur in the general vicinity, the demon would snatch the remote and hold it hostage. His only answer to any plea for its return to be to clutch it to his chest and growl out the word 'frog'. In this context the word 'frog' was used to refer to none other than Kermit. And the remote would only be relinquished if one promised to put on something Kermit related....They had all had been subjected to watching a great deal of the Muppets lately.The angel encouraged Eddie to go on.

"Maybe Hastur would like some things with Kermit on them? Uh... Maybe a shirt... and a plushie?"

Aziraphale clasped his chubby hands together, "Oh! My darling boy, what a wonderful idea! I have a computer with the internet in it, and did you know dear boy, that you can make puchaces from it? From the comfort of your own home. It really is quite marvelous! I'm certain they would have something with Hastur's dear little frog. Would you like to come down to the bookshop and help me pick some things out?"

Eddie nodded and Aziraphale lifted Crowley off Eddie's lap, balancing the lanky demon on one hip, letting his fussy baby slither about in his arms till he found a suitable spot half draped over the angel's shoulder, before making their way downstairs, Eddie trotting after them.

Eddie, it turned out, could operate the computer at a speed that Aziraphale found (quite frankly) dizzying, the little demon returning to his nap instead. Aziraphale left most of the decisions up to Eddie, encouraging him and assuring him that money was no object and that the payments would go through even if he didn't enter all the numbers that the site was asking for. 

He then encouraged Eddie to get something for himself, and, after quite a bit of coaxing, Eddie ended up with a fuzzy new onesie that would make him look like a panda.

When they were all nicely tucked on the sofa, with cups of cocoa (of the sippy variety for Eddie) and a nice bottle of milk for the sleepy demon, Aziraphale beamed at Eddie, "You're such a very good big brother, dear. I am rather impressed on how well you've taken to little Hastur, especially with your rather....erm...unfortunate first impression of him."

Eddie shrugged, gnawing in the spout of his sippy cup, "He really reminds me of my little brother. My... um... real one.... My biological one. He was always really angry. Um... People we're mean to him and he was angry all the time, and then people were meaner to him because he was angry and they thought he was just bad. He wasn't bad. He just needed....I dunno... more than he got. More than I could give him, anyway."

"Oh darling, I didn't know you had a brother. Would you like to visit him, you're perfectly welcome to, you know. Or... Oh! He could come here and we could all have dinner together. Maybe I could make some nice chicken cordon bleu, and perhaps- "

"I don't want to see him." Eddie interrupted, then looked immediately very sorry he had, "We haven't seen each other since we were kids. Our parents split up and I thought he should go with mom...because it would be better for him...because she was always a bit nicer, but he was really mad at me. He wanted to stay with me, but mom and dad decided that they would each have one of us, so someone had to go... and I never saw him again. And I don't really want to see him now. I just want to stay here and be with you and Crowley and Jack and everybody.... Is that.... Is that bad?"

"Oh no, dear boy," Aziraphale couldn't resist opening the arm that wasn't holding Crowley in an invitation for Eddie. Which the human took, plastering himself to the soft angel's side, knotting a hand into the soft sweater that the sleeping redhead was wearing, "You don't have to see anyone you don't want to. Just know that if you ever do, you're perfectly welcome to. You're not bad, darling boy, you're not bad at all." He booped Eddie's nose, “and I should know - after all, I'm an angel."

Eddie made a soft winded noise that sounded vaguely like 'uuuh' against Aziraphale's shoulder, which the angel hoped was the sort of sound that meant "I know I'm not bad and that I can stay here with you and Crowley and the mirror wraits forever, and that you will always love me no matter what." But more realistically he thought it probably just meant "uuuhhh”.

He stroked the Little human's hair, "Why don't you go find Jack and get changed, then snuggle down with Crowley in the crib for a nap?" Eddie nodded, and Aziraphale helped him get up, so that he could toddle off to find his daddy.

Everything was feeling very fragile these days, and the angel didn't like it. It wasn't good for the Littles... It wasn't good for the Bigs either. The trouble was Aziraphale had absolutely no idea what to do about any of it.

As he changed Crowley, he glanced at the mirror in the corner which had been draped with a black cloth, so that one would be able to tell if anyone – or anything- was trying to come through. He hadn't seen the twins or Helena for a couple of days now and it worried him.

Eddie toddled his way back into the room clutching a plush panda and dragging his weighted blanket behind him. Aziraphale carefully tucked Eddie and Crowley into the crib, noting all the while how Eddie kept glancing at the covered mirror.

"Would you like me to turn it to the wall, dear?"

Eddie gnawed on his pacifier nervously, "...But what if Helena or the twins want to come through? I miss them..."

Oh, something really did have to be done about this, and Aziraphale supposed he would just have to be the one to do it. (Thought he still wasn't quite certain what the thing was that he was going to do.)

He smoothed back the Little human's hair, "Why don't I just move the mirror into my bedroom while you're sleeping? That way the twins can still come through, but it won't be here where...erm...just anyone could come in while you're sleeping. How would that be?"

"Umm....that would...be really good, th-thanks. C-Could you...Could you maybe stay for a little while and read?"

"Oh, of course, dear boy," beamed the angel, "What would you like to hear?"


	253. Chapter 253

"I intend to go and speak to Helena," announced Aziraphale to Gregor and Jack, whom he had rounded up and sat on the bookshop sofa so that he could make this proclamation,"Something must be done, we really can't live like this any longer. So, while I'm away, if one of you wouldn't mind watching over Crowley and Eddie, who are asleep in the crib, I would be very grateful."

Gregor stroked his chin, "Helena will be of no help. The best thing we can do is wait for 'Mama' to leave. It seems she often left the twins before, she is a restless creature, and I have little doubt that she will soon tire and leave again... No matter how much the twins wish her to stay."

"In any case, I still want to check on Helena and the twins. We haven't seen them in days!"

Grsgor and Jack blinked owlishly at each other. The passage of time was still largely a mystery to them. Of all the mirror wraiths it was Helena who possessed the most knowledge of how time worked in the human world, and even her understanding was limited.

"Is that," Gregor asked, "a very long time?"

"I certainly think it is! "said the angel, now a bit cross. He usually quite liked the mirror wraiths' philosophy of "it is what it is, it will be what it will be", but in this particular instance he found it rather frustrating, "I just want to know that Helena and the twins are alright."

"Helena's not," Jack replied ever so helpfully, "but it isn't the kind of not alright you can fix... Not even with a scalpel."

"Well, I'm still going. " huffed the angel, and Jack shrugged.

"Her door is the one with a wreath of dried flowers on it," provided Gregor, as he shifted a sleeping Hastur, "I don't think she is in a mood to speak to you though."

"As I said, I'm still going."

"As you wish," Gregor inclined his head, "We will watch over the Littles."

"Thank you, " replied Aziraphale, and he included his head in turn before making his way back upstairs. He entered the mirror, passed through the empty sitting room, and made his way down the hall. Every few moments he turned a wary gaze behind him and to the sides - and above him just for good measure. He really wished he could just scoop up the twins and Helena and tuck them into the bookshop where they could all be safe and happy...But then, that was the unfortunate thing about free will, Aziraphale supposed, you had to let people make their own decisions, even if those decisions were absolute rubbish and would only end up hurting them in the end.

The rather relived angel finally reached the door with the wreath, and raised a pudgy hand to knock. It was quiet for an awfully long time, before he heard something mumbled from inside the room. Aziraphale assumed it was "please come in" and entered accordingly.

Helena's room was draped in various fabrics, there was no furniture, only cushions and piles of books with various brick-a-brack set upon them (including what Aziraphale rather suspected was a human skull being used as flower vase). If the angel had happened to look up he would have found bunches of dried herbs and flowers hanging from the ceiling. It was rather cozy, and brought to Aziraphale's mind memories of places and times long ago. He stepped carefully farther into the room, across the furry rugs, towards a large pile of blankets that was moving ever so slightly.

"….Helena, darling?" He ventured, but got no reply in return.

He began pulling blankets away until he eventually uncovered a pile of braids. Another layer of blankets peeled back, and he uncovered a pair of dark eyes boring into him. 

"Helena, dear? How are you? I haven't seen you in a couple days, and I was rather worried you see. Do you want to sit up, my dear.... perhaps some tea?"

Helena's reply was a low groan, which Aziraphale took as a yes, because...well...at this point he thought it was best. He gently helped her to sit up, attempted to miracle up a cup of tea, which didn't quite work, and he ended up with a cup of cocoa, but the angel supposed that would do. He sat down beside Helen in the nest of cushions and blankets, and passed her the cup.

"Helena... Do you think that perhaps you ought talk to the twins?"

Helena stared into her mug, "...And what do you think I should say, Aziraphale? "

"I'm not exactly certain....to be perfectly honest, but...we haven't seen the twins for a while either, and quite frankly I'm concerned. I don't understand, Helena, I really don't, you - well... you weren't nearly so upset when you spoke about 'Mama' before. I didn't exactly get a favorable impression, but I certainly didn't think she'd be like this!"

"It was different when I spoke about her before - before she wasn't here! " Helena hissed.

Helen hunched over her cocoa, her long braids creating a curtain, obscuring her face from Aziraphale's view. Angel and wraith lapsed into silence, until Helena spoke once again, so quietly that Aziraphale barely could make out the words,"...Do you know why she's here?"

"Er.... No, I can't say that I do."

"She's going to take them away."

"The errr.... Twins?"

"Yes. The twins. She left, and they made the choice to stay here with me...but they missed her, I could tell...I can always tell." She looked up to Aziraphale and it was then that he saw that her eyes were glistening with an odd silvery liquid. Some of it spilled over and trailed down her dark cheek before slowly dissipating into nothing. It was an odd imitation of crying, but not, Aziraphale could tell, an insincere one.

Helena sighed, "She doesn't like not getting her own way, Mama. I don't know if she loves Edgar and Ellen, but I do know that she wants them. So, she's come to take them back, and I have little doubt that this time they will go."

"Preposterous! Really, Helena, the twins love you dearly, that isn't in doubt! She may have been with them first, but you love them more - You take care of them! What has she ever done for them? Surely they know that, they won't leave with her, what sort of life life could they ever have with that....with that thing!"

"She did take care of them, in her own way, I suppose. She isn't always horrible, Angel Aziraphale, and she certainly isn't stupid. The twins may love me, but they will leave with her. I won't be lucky enough for them to choose me a second time."

"I'm afraid i really don't understand." Aziraphale said, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Helena's thin arm. 

"You will note, " she said quietly, "whom the twins refer to as their mother."

And the angel breathed out a gentle "oh" of understanding. He couldn't imagine his darling Crowley ever referring to someone else by the venerated title of 'Papa.'

Helena looked up Aziraphale through the curtain of her braids, "...I think I'd like to be alone now."

"Helena...- "Aziraphale tried.

Long dark fingers gripped the mug so tightly that Aziraphale thought that he saw tiny cracks begin to spiderweb across the porcelain surface.

"I said: I'd like to be alone."

The next thing that Aziraphale knew he was standing outside Helena's room blinking at her closed door.

Well, that....hadn't exactly gone as well as he'd hoped.


	254. Chapter 254

Hastur stared at the large box that had been delivered that morning with a great deal of suspicion.

Gregor gently placed Hastur on the floor in front of the box, but the demon only continued to glareat it. Eddie sat down beside him and placed a hand on his back.

“The things in there are for you," he said, but Hastur just turned his suspicious black gaze on the human, and made no move towards the box.

"Do you um... Want me to take the things out of the box and give them to you? " Eddie tried, he really was looking forward to seeing Hastur open his presents.

Hastur grunted, and nodded slightly, so Eddie crawled over to the box, and stared at the conundrum before him - it was tapped shut and he didn't have anything to open it with.

"Why don't I, dear?" asked Aziraphale, and snapped his fingers.

There was no longer any tape on the box. Eddie blinked, but he opened the box and fished out a large green plush Kermit and held it out for Hastur.

“It's for you," Eddie told the demon, but the word were barely out of his mouth when the toy was snatched out of his hands.

Hastur curled protectively arround the Kermit plushie and Eddie heard the word " frog" mumbled reverently.

"There's more,” Eddie said gently, “More, for you. "

One black eye peered over at him, “Frog?"

"Yeah, it's all Kermit stuff. Wanna see?"

Hastur stared eagerly at the box and grunted.

One by one, Eddie brought things out of the box and they were snatched up by Hastur in an ever growing hoard he hovered protectively over. After Eddie had pulled out the last item he slowly crawled over to Hastur. The demon growled as he approached, but Eddie held out his hands. "Do you...w-want some help, taking the things out of the packages? I won't take them away, I swear."

Hasur seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he slowly sat back on his thickly diapered bottom leaving the pile of Kermit themed things open to Eddie. The human began to take things out of their packages under the watchful eyes of the demon. A pair of scissors appeared just when he needed them to free a pair of Kermit pacifiers from their packaging.

Hastur immediately snatched one, spit out the pacifier he previously had in his mouth, and shoved the new pacifier in his mouth before Eddie could stop him. He looked to Gregor and Aziraphale worriedly, because he knew that you weren't supposed to put pacifiers on your mouth before you washed them, and he felt negligent for letting Hastur do it. But Gregor and Aziraphale looked unbothered, and Eddie supposed demons mightn’t be able to get sick that way, so he breathed a sigh of relief, and begain helping Hastur pusll his new Kermit shirt on over the long sleeved one he was already wearing.

Crowley slithered up beside them. "I'm bored,” The demon whined, “wanna build a casstle with my blocksss?"

Eddie nodded, but Hastur growled "No! Frog!"

Crowley looked displeased and Eddie could sense a fight brewing between demons. He really wasn't in the mood for anyone to get bit or peed on, so he decided to try his hand at diplomacy.

"Ummm.... How a bout we build a castle and then you and Hastur can knock it down? You like knocking stuff down, Hastur. "

The promise of destruction seemed to placate Hastur, and he nodded. Crowley seemed satisfied with this as well, and toddled off to get his blocks.

Hastur, as it turned out, was an absolute rubbish architect. He kept stealing blocks from Crowley and trying to shove them in his mouth, so Eddie placed the demon in his lap, and gave him one block to gnaw on while they finished the castle.

Apparently, the only force that could bring the two demons together was destruction. They both absolutely decimated the castle, then began to throw blocks at one another. Eddie didn't feel any need to intervene because they were giggling and it didn’t seem as though either demon really meant the other harm, even when they ended up rolling on the floor on top of one another. Eddie just watched, plucking Hastur's plush Kermit out of harm’s way and keeping it safe - if anything happened to it, Eddie was certain there would be a tantrum followed by a great deal of peeing in inconvenient locations.

The demons tired each other out shortly, it was, after all, still hibernation season for the coldblooded. Eddie plucked Hastur off of Crowley, gave the greedy little frog his plushie and returned him to Gregor. Gregor looked down at Eddie and in that deep rumbling voice told him what a good friend he was to look after Hastur so well.

Eddie received a smililar response when he handed over a sleepy serpent to Aziraphale, though with significantly more cooing.

Even Jack that night, as he changed Eddie and tucked him into bed, told him what a good clever boy he was, looking after the little demons so, and wasn't he just so good at looking after all his little friends.

Eddie lay away for a while that night, thinking how undeserved that praise was. He hadn't been good to all his friends. He gnawed on his pacifier and stared at the blonde doll sitting innocently on the nightstand.

The last night that they had played with the twins Eddie had picked up the pieces of the broken doll and asked Aziraphale to fix it. He knew how much the twins loved their dolls. He hadn't gotten a chance to give back the now whole doll to them though, because he hadn't seen them in days.

It was really all his fault they couldn't play with the twins anymore: it was his humanness and fear that made 'Mama' come around in the first place. He had probably drawn her to them like a shark to blood.

He sat up and grabbed the doll, “Do you think the twin's are alright? Do you think I should go and check on them?"

The doll stared back up at him with unblinking glass eyes. Eddie had half expected the doll to actually answer, or at least nod its head, but it remained frustratingly still and silent.

"I'm going to check on them, " Eddie told it anyway.

He got out of bed, grabbed his combat boots, and rummaged around in Jack's things for a scalpel (Eddie didn't actually think it would protect him against 'Mama', it just made him feel significantly safer having it). He almost woke up Jack or Crowley or someone to go with him, but he really didn't want to bother anyone. Eddie also felt that if he could do this alone, it would prove to them that he did belong here with them; that even though he was only human, he could handle all the weird shit that came with being a part of this odd little family.

If this went well, maybe they could even move back to the mirror realm, 'Mama' or not. Eddie knew that Jack missed his room, his jars of suspicious things floating in formaldehyde, his laboratory, and all of his sewing supplies. It was unfair that they had to stay in the bookshop just because of Eddie. He was holding everyone back.

Eddie pulled the curtain away and stood before the mirror. He quickly donned his combat boots, and brandished the scalpel in one hand as he held the doll tightly in the other. With a deep breath, eyes shut in concentration, he walked into the mirror.


	255. Chapter 255

Eddie hit cold glass. 

And glass again the next three times as well - but on the fifth try he made it through.

He walked through the sitting room, down, down the dimly lit hallway, and felt fine...until a grotesque shiver made its way up his spine - the feeling of something watching. 

He took a deep breath and tried to stop his hands from shaking as the lights flickered as he could feel something that he couldn't see swooping around him.

'Mama' materialized in front of him, and Eddie felt his diaper grow warm, but he kept steadily breathing and didn't run. 'Mama' drifted slowly closer, and brought up a hand to his face. Eddie started to consider that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

She ran her grotesquely long and knobby fingers down his cheek. Eddie could feel his heart attempting to escape from his chest, but he squared his shoulders and looked her in where he thought her eyes would be if she had any, and told her, "I'm not afraid of you." (This would have been slightly more impressive had it not been mumbled from behind a pacifier.)

The fingers paused at his chin, and 'Mama' tipped her head to the side like a curious bird. She seemed to be contemplating something. Eddie concentrated very hard on not messing himself. He half expected her to dislocate her jaw to the floor and swallow him in one terrible swift swallow or something equally as horrible...

In one quick, jerky motion 'Mama' pulled back then lunged forward right at Eddie. The next thing the Little human knew, he was laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. He shivered violently a couple times, feeling oddly feverish yet freezing at the same time.

He propped himself up, and peered behind him: 'Mama' was gone. Eddie let out a sigh of relief, falling back to the floor for a moment. He had faced off against 'Mama' and she had done...nothing. He couldn't wait to tell his Daddy.

Eddie got up and dusted his fluffy panda onesie off with a newfound feeling of confidence. He bent down and retrieved his scalpel and the doll (which Eddie was relived to see hadn't broken in the fall). He stuck the scalpel in his pocket and continued down the hall significantly more relaxed. He knocked on the door of the twin's nursery, hoping they were there.

Two sleepy looking faces poked out of the door. They brightened up when they spied the Little human. With a cry of "Eddie!" Four pale hands dragged him into the room. 

As soon as the door was closed he was bombarded with questions.

"Is that our dolly?"

"Did you fix it? "

"Did you come here all by yourself? "

"Did Mama do that to your face?"

"We're really sorry Eddie!"

Eddie blinked dumbly, trying to sort out everything that the twins had just babbled at him. He held out the doll, "Yeah... It's umm... Your guys' doll. I picked it up when it broke. I didn't fix it though, Aziraphale did."

The twin's both reached out and grasped the doll, cuddling it between them.

"Thank you, Eddie."

"And thank Aziraphale for us to."

One twin gently placed the doll in their crib, whilst the other rummaged around in a pile of junk and came out with a small pink jar and a lace handkerchief. The twins then toddled over to Eddie and began rubbing the gooey contents if the jar on his face. As soon at the stuff touched his cheek he yelped and pulled back. 

He brought up a hand cradle his burning cheek, "What is that?!"

"We're trying to help Eddie."

"Don't fuss. "

One of the twins guided him to sit in a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner. The other showed up with a small mirror they was made to look like a sheep. Eddie stared at himself. His cheek had three long bloodied gashes running down it. He hadn't even felt anything until the twins had tried to apply their ointment. 

"Did Mama do this to you?"

Eddie nodded, then he told the twins, with more than a hint of pride, about his encounter with 'Mama' and how he hadn't been (very) afraid and how he had come out of it (relatively) unscathed.

"We're sorry Eddie," The twins said in unison.

"It's okay, " Eddie shrugged, "It's not your fault."

The twins shared a look that Eddie couldn't decipher.

"Do you need a diapy change?" One of them asked, smiling in a way that Eddie didn't think was particularly natural at all. 

"We've been changing ourselves for a while now. We've gotten really good at it!"

They grabbed his hands and led him over to the changing table. 

Eddie hadn't thought about that. That the twins didn't really have anyone to take care of them with Jack and Gregor spending all their time in the bookshop, Helena locked in her room in a mismatch heap of blankets and despair...and....well...Eddie didn't imagine 'Mama' was doing much care taking of anyone.

"You bit through your paci," Edgar (or Ellen) said, holding it up to show the bite torn teat, still attached to it's leash.

"O-oh," Eddie answered, biting his lip. He'd liked that paci, it was black with a rhinestone skull in the middle. 

"Don't worry," The twin patted him on the head, “We can fix that." They then proceeded to root through a box until they triumphantly held up a bag of plastic teats.

As one twin fixed his pacifier and the other changed his diaper it occurred to him just how much he had missed the twins. They seemed to be doing alright, but he wished he could think of some way that they could all be together again.

Ellen (or Edgar) taped up the final tape, patted his tum and proclaimed, "There! All done!" And began to button up Eddie's onesie once again. The other twin returned and stuck Eddie's newly fixed paci in his mouth. He felt safe and cared for...and more than a bit sleepy.

"You wanna cuddle now?" One of the twins asked.

Eddie nodded and they all crawled into the soft, comforting tangle of blankets, pillows, and plushies that was the twins crib.

"Music please?" One of the twins asked a porcelain doll, which began to move robotically to a music box melody.

Eddie yawned and snuggled down between the twins, "…I missed you."

They both squeezed him a little too tightly in response. For a second Eddie couldn't breath and he felt a trickle of pee escape him, but he didn't mind too much, and they let go quite quickly. "...We missed you too," They said.

"We're sorry we don't come over to play anymore."

"It's only that Mama has been really restless lately... and we're trying to figure out why and... "

Eddie couldn't help himself. His mouth moved before he had given it permission to, "Why bother? You know she's terrible, right?"

Eddie's eyes widened in absolute terror. He clasped his hands over his mouth and scrunched down in the bed as far as he could. Over Eddie's head the twin's shared a look, then two sets of unnerving blue eyes turned on him.


	256. Chapter 256

"We know."

"Of course we know she's horrible. "

"We're not dumb, Eddie."

Eddie sat up and turned to stare at his friends in surprise. "Then...why?" He said, able to articulate nothing better. 

The twins shrugged, "We love her." 

"She may be horrible some -"

" -most," chimed in the other twin. 

" - most of the time. But she's out mother, and we love her...even if she is terrible."

'She different with us too.'

"She likes us."

"She brings us things."

"She plays with us sometimes."

"She's just different. The others don't understand her like we do."

"We were with her from the beginning."

"Oh..." said Eddie, "so, you know that Helena d-doesn't.... Ummm.. "

"Like Mama?"

"We know."

The twins both curled up on themselves wrapping their arms around their legs and resting their foreheads on their knees. The both peeked one singular pale blue eye out at him. "We thought that maybe with time, Mama could settle in with us and stay here."

"Be part of the family."

"We know the others don't like her much, especially Helena, but we hoped that with enough time, they could come to... "

"Tolerate," the other twin supplied helpfully.

"Tolerate each other."

"We thought Mama might have changed and it would work this time. Maybe she wanted to settle down and be here, with us, now."

"But we're not sure...She doesn't seem to actually want to be here with us very much. We don't think she's really changed at all. She's probably going to leave again."

"Will you go with her?" Eddie asked.

The twins looked surprised, "Don't be silly, Eddie. We don't like going places that aren't home."

"Unless its the toy store."

"Or the park... The park is nice."

"And we couldn't take all our dolls with us!"

"We'd miss them and they'd miss us!"

Eddie knew painfully well what it was like to want to be a family with people who didn't share that same desire, but he was terribly glad that 'Mama' would be going and the twins would be staying. He didn't really know what to say, so he just hugged the twins tightly for a long time. "I'm glad you're staying, " he whispered, "I don't like people going away. No one ever writes me. Or calls."

"We won't go away, Eddie," the twins promised. 

"We only just got you."

"And a Crowley and a Hastur.”

"We don't want to go."

They stroked his hair as he yawned and adjusted the pillows, blankets, and mountains of strange plushies around so that they could all lay down and go to sleep. Eddie drifted off, still clutching tightly to the twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday the 13th! 💕


	257. Chapter 257

Their footfalls echoed down the corridor, though he was significantly taller, Gabriel hurried to keep up with Beelzebub's quick strides. 

"I was thinking..." Gabriel said. 

"Oh, Satan be praisszzed - a miracle!" Beelzebub muttered under her breath. 

Gabriel ignored her, he had learned to ignore much of what Beelzebub grumbled to herself. 

"What did you do with the corporation of that lizard demon?"

Beelzebub looked surprised, as much as she ever looked anything. "You mean Ligur? I fed his corporation to the Hellhoundzzz - no uszze having it lying about - and it certainly waszzzn't any use to Ligur any more after what you did to it."

Gabriel made an unhappy noise, "Did... Did he have any friends... Ligur, I mean? Will any one miss him? "

The Prince of Hell snorted, "I should think zzzoooo. You don't remember Hazzztur? The white haired demon you plotted revenge on Crowley and Azzzziraphale with? That Hazzzztur? "

Gabriel blinked dumbly, "Does Hastur know Ligur?"

Beelzebub stopped on the middle of the hall, Gabriel crashing into the surprisingly sturdy form. (The fly atop the demon's head was knocked slightly askew and buzzed angrily at Gabriel as it readjusted itself in the nest of Beelzebub's hair).

"Crowley disszzolving Ligur with holy water waszzz the entire reason that Hastur went along with your idiotic revenge scheme. How the Hell do you not know thizzzz?"

Gabriels mouth twisted into a frown. "We didn't make small talk." 

Beelzebub rolled her eyes, and began to walk again. 

At the time, Gabriel hadn't really thought of the grumpy toad demon as anything more than a means to an end. He was willing to help him in his plan, what did it matter why? But looking back it had occurred to the archangel that as well as being incredibly angry, the demon had also been quite despondent. Now, presumably from the loss of his little demon friend. Now Hastur was going to lose the lizard demon once again, and he was going to be sad, and angry... Very, very angry. 

Gabriel didn't like that. He had sort of liked the abrasive Hastur as much as the demon had often annoyed him, he was funny. He often made Gabriel laugh, though he didn't seem to mean to, and all of the insults he hurled at Gabriel lacked the cold cutting matter-of-factness that the other angel's did. Their time spent plotting together hadn't been lovely or anything, but Gabriel hadn't found it particularly unpleasant or anything. 

"Do you think he's alright?" He asked Beelzebub. 

"Who? Ligur or Haszzztur?" There wasn't a moment's pause before she continued, "never mind, it'sszzz a definite no to both."

"Oh," replied Gabriel, who was for the first time realizing the consequences of an action he'd committed, "Do you think.. "

But the Prince of Hell cut him off. "Don't you think we have bigger thingszzzz to worry about than thoszzzze two idiotzzzz?" She gestured to a large ornate iron door that they had come to stand before without Gabriel really having noticed. 

Gabriel had never though of himself as a coward before, but, well...he was finding out lots of new things about himself these days. He might be a coward, he didn't know. Might as well try it out and see. 

He turned and made to walk speedily back down the hall. After a few steps he realized that he was walking but not actually going anywhere. He craned his head around to see an 

irritated looking Beelzebub with a fistful of his jacket in hand. The demon said nothing, but turned to the door and reached up to grasp the heavy door knocker (Which was in the shape of a gargoyle, and looking down at them rather judgmentally). The knocks echoed through the barren hallway. 

The door creaked open. 

Beelzebub turned and looked up at Gabriel, adjusting her grip from the back of his shirt to his arm. "Come in then, no uszzze prolonging the inevitable."

Gabriel nodded, without an ounce of conviction. He would have quite liked to prolong the inevitable in this case. He didn't want to face his old friend again, it felt final, like once he stepped through the door way, there would be no going back – that he would be on Lucifer's side now. Even after everything that Gabriel had learned, the thought still frightened him. He was suddenly glad for Beelzebub's tight grip on his arm, though oddly enough he wished that it would slide down so that the demon was holding his hand instead. He didn't know why, it just...sounded pleasant. 

Beelzebub stared straight ahead, expressionless, but Gabriel felt her give his arm a squeeze, and together they walked through the door to meet the Devil.


	258. Chapter 258

Jack awoke and stretched his gangly limbs about languidly. He was a bit disappointed not to have a little human curled up in the bed with him, but he supposed Eddie had just gotten up to go find food or play with Crowley and Hastur. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, feeling no particular hurry to get up. He relaxed his bladder into his diaper, luxuriating in the feeling of it for a moment. Eventually, the torrent of pee stopped, and he cracked an eye open, supposing he should get up and change. He stretched again, untangled himself from the covers, and finally pulled himself out of bed. 

He slipped off his wet diaper and binned it, reaching for the changing suplies and a fresh nappy. Originally, he had intended to go back to wearing them only occasionally like he used to, once Eddie had become acclimated to his own diaper wearing...but he hadn't yet manged to get around to it. Wearing diapers made him feel closer to Eddie - in a way it had once made him feel close to Gregor. He paused for a moment and frowned, wondering why it didn't seem that he could ever feel close to both at once.

Jack slipped into a pair of green trousers that Crowley had once described as "vomit colored”, followed by a multicolored geometrically-patterned sweater (described by the very same demon as "headache inducing"), and finally a pair of colorful and very mismatched socks. He looked around for his boots, but couldn't find them anywhere, so he simply padded out to the sitting room stocking clad.

Crowley and Aziraphale were sat on the sofa, the demon feeding the angel berries from a small bowl that sat on the coffee table, while the swells of orchestral music played in the background. Hastur and Gregor sat at the kitchen table. Gregor was reading while Hastur was bent over busily scribbling on paper with a green marker. 

Jack blinked a couple of times, then looked around the room once more. "Where's Eddie? " He asked the room at large.

Crowley's yellow eyes narrowed at Jack. "What do you mean, 'where'sss Eddie?'"

Jack blinked again, then furrowed his brow. He didn't really understand the question. "Exactly as I said...'Where's Eddie?' "

Crowley sputtered and hissed, and looked like he was going to say something before Aziraphale gently placed a hand on the demon's shoulder. "I think, errr... What Crowley means to ask is: Isn't Eddie with you, dear? Perhaps still in the bedroom sleeping?"

"Oh...no," Jack shook his head, "I was just in the bedroom. I would have noticed if he was in there.”

"Then where isssss he?" Crowley hissed. 

"I don't know," Jack answered, "that's why I was asking you."

"Oh dear....oh dear, oh dear," the angel fussed, wringing his hands together, "...We don't know either Jack."

"You don't know?" asked Jack who was slowly processing this new information,"...You mean to tell me, that.... Eddie is.... missing?"

Aziraphale nodded. Crowley hissed venomously, "You've losssstttt Eddie!"

"Oh fuck, " Jack said, "I've lost Eddie. "

He then proceeded to do what any sane and reasonable entity in his place would: He panicked.

"Oh no, oh no, what have I done? We need to check all the rooms, we need to check in the walls, we need to check the roof and oh... What if he's gone outside...?" Jack flopped heavily down in a chair, slumping over the armrest looking faint. He grabbed a book to fan himself with, "There are so many humans outside, being born and dying and breathing and - and doing taxes! How can I find one human in amongst hundreds of others!"

"Millions," corrected Aziraphale rather unhelpfully, "and that's in London alone."

Jack groaned and let his head droop back and his book fall to the floor."I'm a terrible Mommy. I've lost my baby, I've only just got him and I've lost him!" Odd, silvery, mirror wraith tears began to leak from his eyes.

"Don't panic," rumbled Gregor who had come up beside Jack and laid a large gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"Then what should I do?" Jack choked out. 

Gregor, who was much like a rock in situations like these - strong, dependable, largely unchanging....and utterly useless , had no advice to offer. 

"Did anyone go through the mirror today?" Aziraphale asked. "I found the cloth on the ground this morning."

Crowley's wide yellow eyes turned to his angel, "You think that thing from the mirror world came and Eddie-napped Eddie?" 

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, dea- "

But Crowley was already up and making for the mirror. Aziraphale, quickly grabbed a fist full of sweater and pulled him back down again, "Darling, please, we need to make a plan."

Crowley hissed and tried to wriggle away, but Aziraphale scooped the demon into his lap and held him tightly, “Crowley - Jack and I will go and look for Eddie into the mirror realm. Gregor, Hastur, I think it would be best if you two searched the book shop and stayed here just in case the dear boy returns."

"Mirrorsssss, angel," hissed Crowley. 

"Pardon, dear boy?"

Crowley groaned and flopped around dramatically in his angel's hold. "Hand mirrors - for Jack and Gregor so they can tell each other when one group finds Eddie."

“Oh that is a brilliant idea, my clever little serpent, " the angel said, kissing Crowley on the cheek. 

"Now can we go and disssscorperate 'Mama' and resssscue Eddie?" Crowley asked, redoubling his wiggling efforts to try and escape the angel's grip.

“Alright, dear...but we must get some shoes on you...and please do not try to discorporate... Errr... 'Mama'. Really, you should stay behind Jack and I, and - "

"Annnggellll - Eddie!? "

"Oh yes, alright, dear, off we go!" The angel released his grip on the demon, who miracled up shoes and a small hand mirror. Crowley then wasted no time in dashing through the mirror, followed closely by a worried Aziraphale and a still somewhat bewildered Jack.


	259. Chapter 259

Eddie was quite content. Maybe the crib was slightly squished with three Littles, its piles of blankets and countless stuffies, but it was a pleasant sort of squished. Eddie yawned and removed the plush elephant with two trunks that had somehow found it's way on top of his head while he was sleeping. He rolled over and hugged the twin that he was using for a pillow, the other twin that was using him for a pillow tightened their arms around him in turn.

He was just about to drift off to sleep once again when he swore he heard his name being called. Eddie froze. For some reason he was quite certain it was 'Mama' calling for him. He shook the twin he was lying on. 

They grumbled behind their pacifier, and batted his hand away. "Go back to sleep, Eddie..."

"I'm sorry," Eddie whispered. "But I heard someone calling my name. A-And... And.... I ummm...I think it's your Mama."

The twin that hand been lounging on Eddie turned their sleepy pale blue eyes to him, "Mama doesn't talk Eddie... Not with words... "

"Oh... " replied Eddie. Maybe he was letting his imagination get carried away with him. He snuggled back down again and closed his eyes..... But then...there it was again. Only this time the twins seemed to hear it too because in unison the sat up, bringing Eddie with them. 

"We heard that too."

"Definitely someone calling for you."

"Definitely not Mama."

"We should see what they want."

"We should tell them to go away so we can sleep."

"You stay here, Eddie. "

The twins climbed over the crib railing and made for the door. Eddie clutched a two headed teddy bear to his chest, and bit his lip nervously.

A few quiet minutes passed before Crowley burst through the door and practically flew over the crib railing to wrap himself around Eddie. 

"Bad Eddie," Crowley hissed "No leaving."

Eddie blinked a few times, "umm.... s-sorry? 

"'Ssss'okay Eddie, but no leaving anymore. I won't let you."

"Ummm... o-okay," Eddie said patting Crowley's thin back, still not certain what was happening, but not minding in the least having a cuddly demon wrapped around him. He didn't had much time to ponder on it either as Jack strode in, deftly avoiding all the things scattered on the twin's floor. He scooped both Eddie and Crowley up out of the crib with ease and squeezed them both to his breast practically sobbing, "Baby - Baby! Mommy is sorry he lost you!"

"Uhhh...." Eddie said. 

"Eddie isn't lost," One of the twins said from behind Jack. 

"He's right here," Said the other twin. 

Aziraphale came up behind the twins, and laid a pudgy hand on their shoulders. "Yes, dears, we know that now, but we didn't before. It rather frightened us not knowing where Eddie was. Especially under the.... ah... current circumstances."

The twins nodded in understanding, "We took very good care of him while we had him."

"Now you can have him back if you like."

"We should probably go find Mama anyway. "

"No!" Eddie said, still being squeezed half to death by an overly affectionate Jack. "I'm sorry, I mean that...well... You should um...t-talk to Helena first."

The twins looked puzzled. "Why?" One asked.

"Helena doesn't want to talk," the Other said.

"She uhh... She's really upset because she thinks that er... You're...you're g-going to leave."

The twins furrowed their brows in unison. "Really?" Both Edgar and Ellen said, "Helena should know that we wouldn't want to leave." 

"This is our home."

"All our dolls are here."

"And all of you."

"I, er, don't know why Helena thinks that, but she does... And that's why she's been in her room and... Uh... I think you should tell her, even if she should already know. I mean... Sometimes you need to hear things you already should know."

The twins nodded sagely, "We'll go talk to Helena."

"We've really missed her anyway."

"Then we'll go and find Mama."

"Close the door when you leave, please."

"Bye-bye," Edgar and Ellen said, waiving in unison. 

Then they disappeared out of Eddie's sight. 

Jack bounced Crowley and Eddie up and down, nuzzling Eddie's nose and still looking rather tearful and soppy. Which made Eddie rather uncomfortable, "Why doesn't Mommy take you back to the bookshop and get you changed baby?" 

Eddie hadn't realized that he had wet his diaper, and looked down blushing.

Aziraphale came up besides them, "That's a lovely idea. We'll all go back to the bookshop, maybe have a nice cup of tea.” He then tried to extract Crowley, who was still was wrapped around Eddie. Crowley reluctantly let himself be pulled into his Angel's arms, but he kept his yellow gaze fixed on Eddie. 

It didn't quite fully occur to the little human until he was lying on a changing mat, having a still sniffling Jack pour far too much baby powder on him, that they had all been worried about...him.

He couldn't have been gone more than a few hours. His parents had never gone out looking for him when he came home late, or sometimes not even until the next day. When he'd been been working for Nathaniel the only time Nathaniel ever wondered where Eddie was was when he needed Eddie to do something. 

The realization made Eddie feel loved and guilty and stifled all at once. He wiggled and bit his lip, they all saw him as a fragile little human, and while Eddie adored all the cuddling and live he received, he also wanted them to know that he could take care of himself too. He wasn't helpless. 

He felt conflicted and that in turn made him feel sick. He wanted to say something, but he didn't quite know what. Jack taped his diaper down and tapped him in the nose lightly, looking down at Eddie like he was the whole world. How could Eddie complain, when Jack looked at him like that? So he just bit his lip and said nothing as Jack brought him up for a hug.


	260. Chapter 260

Lucifer reclined behind his desk in the same blonde haired corporation that they had seen him in last time. He blew out a puff of smoke from his clove cigarette as he looked over the demon and archangel standing before him, "And to what..." the devil asked, "do I owe this pleasure?"

"We found your little sszzzzpy in my quarters."

"Did you?" Lucifer asked. 

Beelzubub open her mouth to speak again, but the Archangel beat her to it. "I don't want to be in Heaven anymore," Gabriel blurted out. 

Lilith's dark eyes fixed on him. She leaned forward over the desk that she was perched upon,"Why?"

Gabriel sunk down in a velvet armchair heavily, and placed his head in his hands, "I can't do it anymore! I can't be up there and pretend. I question everything now. It's terrible! I can't just do God's work any more, because.... I no longer believe that it's well....The Right Thing. I don't know where else to go. I'm not...plotting anything, I swear. I just want...Well, I don't know what I want. "

"Have you fallen?" asked Lilith creeping across the desk ever closer to Gabriel, still staring intently at him. 

"Lilith," Lucifer chided, but then turned to Gabriel. "It is pertinent information.... if you will be staying," he added, oddly gentle. 

"No, I....haven't. I should have. I definitely should have. I mean I tried to ask God... "

"You spoke to her? " Lucifer asked, he too was now leaning forward over the desk, shoving a section of Lilith's voluminous hair away so that he could better peer intently at the Archangel. 

"Ah, well not quite. You remember the representation of God that resides in the center of the temple? "

"Yes," Lucifer said slowly, entirely uncertain as to where this was going.

"Well, that was the closest I could get to God herself, to ask a few pertinent questions."

"And? " asked Lilith her eyes alight with curiosity.

"I didn't get and answers... and...I punched it."

Lilith burst out in maniacal laughter, clutching her sides an rolling off the desk with a thud. Lucifer's eyebrows had risen to his hairline, “You punched the great representation of God?"

Gabriel glowered, "It wasn't my finest hour. It threw me across the antechamber. "

There was another howl of laughter from Lilith on the floor.

"And yet still, you have not fallen.... Interesting."

Lucifer sat back in his chair and closed his eyes the smoke from the cigarette he still held lazily drifting upwards. 

Gabriel looked confused, which was accurate because he felt confused. "Why is that interesting?"

"Because unless God has seriously relaxed her policies on rebellion..." Lucifer sat up, "Has she? When that Jesus fellow spoke about her, she did seemed to be far more forgiving than I remembered."

"Ahh... About that" said Gabriel. "Well... We noticed that God was getting some criticism from the humans. You know humans like to fuss about little things like trying to kill Moses and murdering thirty people so that Sampson could win a bet... And since God was no longer making regular visits to Earth we decided to do a bit of PR management. You know, " Gabriel waved a hand in the air. 

"Lie?" Beelzebub offered. 

"Not exactly." Gabriel frowned at the Prince. "Just.... Point out some of her best qualities... and downplay the more...genocidal ones...anyway why do you ask, Luci?"

Lucifer studiously ignored being called "Luci", "You do understand what this means don't you?"

"Yes!..... Not exactly.... No... " Gabriel admitted. 

"I believe you have not fallen, because God is well and truly gone from the Heavens. I've suspected it for sometime. God has been rather absent in recent millennia, but I can think of no other reason she would spare you and that fat little angel who was with the Antichrist, what was he called?" 

"Aziraphale." Gabriel supplied. "I admit.... I've begun to believe the same thing.... I can no longer feel Her presence in heaven...as I once did."

"If we are no longer beholden to God -" Lucifer began, but Lilith popped her head back up resting her chin on the desk to interrupt,

"It could be a trap you know. God does seem very fond of setting people up for failure. Abraham? A certain apple tree left in the middle of a garden?"

"Lilith is right, we must proceed with caution whatever we do."

Gabriel looked at his old friend with wide hopefully eyes, "You said 'we' - that means you're letting me stay?" He smiled hopefully. 

Lucifer sighed, "If you must, so long as Beelzebub will vouch for you and you understand that if you cause any trouble, or this turns out to be a very elaborate trick, -” (Lucifer rather doubted this, he didn't think that Gabriel was capable if this level of acting... Or, any at all really.) “-you will be forcefully expelled from Hell and Beelzubub will be punished - severely."

Beelzebub nodded, "I accszzzzept thozzze termsszzz, My Lord."

Something in Gabriel's corporation's chest grew warm when the demon prince said that...which was worrying. His corporation must be malfunctioning. 

Lucifer waved his hand dismissively. Beelzebub stood and tugged up Gabriel with her, shepherding the Archangel out as fast as she could. This had all gone so much better than the demon could have ever hoped for, and she wanted to get out while everything remained well. 

She had just managed to shove Gabriel out the door, when the idiot got away from her, suddenly turning backwards and sticking his had back in room calling out to the devil. "Oh! Luci..... Ah... One more thing."

Beelzebub's palm met her face with a 'thunk'.


	261. Chapter 261

Aziraphale placed a good deal of baby scented body wash on the cloth. He lifted up the arm of his sleepy demon, who was contently sucking on his pacifier and offering no help whatsoever with the task of being washed...not that Aziraphale particularly minded. He reveled in these moments when he could fuss over and mother his dearest little demon to his heart's content.

He lifted the Little carefully forward, keeping one hand on a thin pale chest for support, and moved on to gently wash Crowley's back. 

"Dearest," the angel began 

"Hmmmm?" Crowley replied in a lazy hum. 

"Do you think that there is something...Well... Just a tad bit off about Eddie lately? Ever since that night he went into the mirror, I mean."

Crowley pulled the pacifier out of his mouth and held it in a slender hand draped over the side of the tub. "Not really. He sssseemsssss fine to me - I've been taking good care of him, angel," the demon replied slightly defensively.

And that was true. Crowley had been fiercely protective of the human ever since he had gone 'missing'. The demon had taken up "Eddie sitting" in order to ensure that his special human friend stayed put. Quite often literally sitting on Eddie. 

"I know you have, dear, " Aziraphale moved on to gently massaging shampoo through long red hair, "I just thought I sensed...Oh, I don't know, something slightly different about the dear boy, but I suppose it could be my imagination.Things have been rather... irregular around here lately, I suppose it's just disconcerting me."

"You don't think that Eddie wantsssss to leave do you, angel? "

"Oh good heavens no!" exclaimed Aziraphale, "Nothing like that. It's only, well, I'm not certain what it is exactly, but never you mind, dear. I'm sure it's nothing."

The angel finished rinsing the shampoo out of Crowley's hair, and began to apply conditioner. "Maybe Eddie wantssss to go outside again...sssmell the grass...feed the ducksss...go to the Ritz, drive the Bentley...fine a nice rock to sssssun himself on. Humans need outsssside time don't they?"

"Yes, and I rather think demons do as well."

Crowley cracked a yellow eye open, "I've never been thissss awake during winter before. I missss thingssss. Outside thingssss. And it really issssn't fair to you, angel. Having to take care of me all the time."

"Crowley, dear, I enjoy snuggling and coddling you all winter, just as I shall enjoy going to the park and the Ritz with you when it becomes warmer. And really you're hardly much trouble at all when your sleeping."

"I wanna take care of you too annngeeeellll" Crowley whined, then yawned.

'You do, darling, you're such an attentive little demon, always making certain I'm warm and cozy and well fed."

"When it gets warm I'm going to take you out properly, angel. Take you to all the restaurantsssss and playsssss and bloody five hour long German operasssss with convoluted plotlines about hunchbackssss fake marrying their daughterssss that you want. "

"That sounds lovely, dear. I really do look forward to it, but I shouldn't mind if we also spend some time in the bookshop having a nice cuddle like we're doing now. I really do just enjoying having you here with me."

Crowley wiggled his little forked tongue out at Aziraphale, "Ssssssoppy, angel."

"I suppose I am, but you do love me," (Aziraphale did not point out that Crowley was at least equally, if not significantly more, soppy than he).

"Againsssst my better judgment." 

Aziraphale smiled at his contrary little darling as he took him out of the bath and wrapped him in a fluffy red towel. "Now, why don't we see about getting you dressed, darling boy?” 

Crowley nodded and rested his head against his angel's shoulder. Aziraphale made to take his baby to the changing table, but paused when he felt a warm sensation running down his hip. 

"Nnngggkkkk," Crowley whined and buried his reddened face deeper into the crook of Aziraphale's neck. 

The angel patted his back as the demon let out a muffled apology.

It occurred to Aziraphale then that just a few scant months ago Crowley would have been running out the door or slithering under furniture after peeing on him, but here his baby was, still safely in his arms. Embarrassed to be sure, but trusting that Aziraphale wasn't cross with him and.... Oh... He was getting rather misty eyed at that. 

"Its alright, love, nothing to fuss over," He kissed the top of his dearest little demon's head and preformed a small miracle to clean them both up. 

Once Crowley was laid out on the changing table, Aziraphale asked, "Would you like to pick out your diapers, or would you like Papa to do it?” 

Crowley looked very contemplative, then he half shouted, "Ducks! "

Aziraphale smiled and rubbed his demon's thin tummy, "Cloth or disposable, dear? "

"Cloth."

The angel obliged - lotioning, powdering and making certain the diaper was thick enough and that it wouldn't bunch up uncomfortably between Crowley's legs. Once he finished he picked up the demon, whom he rather suspected was becoming both increasingly more sleepy and little by the second, and made his way to their bed room. "Now, dearest, would you like to pick out your clothes or would you like Papa to do it?"

"Papa," Crowley answered, then hesitantly questioned "...paci?"

"Oh, of course, dear!" The angel picked up red pacifier with a charming little snake motif from the cluttered nightstand and gave it to the little demon. 

Crowley rarely let Aziraphale dress him, and the angel reveled in this privilege – though it should be noted he also abused it slightly with more than a little bit of tartan. He picked out a red and black tartan dress with matching diaper cover, hair bow, thick slipper socks (Aziraphale would have referred to them as booties, had he not been specifically forbidden to by Crowley), as well as a warm, thick pair of black stockings. The outfit was a bit old fashioned for Crowley's usual tastes, but he didn't object. Aziraphale had picked it out, keeping in mind Crowley's preferred color scheme, and hadn't had much hope of ever actually getting the demon in it. Now that he had, Crowley looked every bit as darling as Aziraphale imagined (Though he did wonder idly at the chances of getting his dear demon in a bonnet). 

"Now, darling, how about we find you a nice bottle, and then you have a bit of a kip while I catch up on my reading? Hmm? How would that be? " Truth be told, Aziraphale was never completely caught up on his reading on account of the human tendency to continue to write new things he wanted to read.

Crowley sleepily nodded, and Aziraphale picked up his Little dear to carry him out to the sitting room. Once there he was greeted with Helena sitting on the sofa, looking regal once more, and smiling in a way that rather reminded Aziraphale of the Mona Lisa. The twins were lying prostrate on the sofa and had their faces buried in her skirts. She was gently stroking their hair with both hands and making soft cooing noises at them.

Aziraphale cleared his throat, "Helena dear, this is a surprise! So good to see you...and the twins, of course...Err... How is everything?"


	262. Chapter 262

"There has been no sight of... Mama. We rather do believe she has left." It was obvious that Helena was trying to hide her ever growing glee at this.

One twin turned their face towards Aziraphale, "She didn't even say goodbye."

The other twin revealed their face as well with a sniff, "Did we really expect her to? She never did before."

The first twin shrugged and buried their face back into Helena's skirts.

"Oh, poor dears, "Aziraphale cooed. He didn't know what else to say - he couldn't really assure them that their 'Mama' loved them or that she would be back (he rather hoped not). "Ah! how about you two hold Crowley and look after him while I fetch him a bottle? Hmm? "

The twins wasted no time in scrabbling over Helena so that they could sit by one another to let Aziraphale lay the sleeping Crowley in their laps.

When he returned with the bottle the twins were taking turns stroking Crowley's hair and singing softly about oranges and lemons and the bells of St. Clement's. They returned the sleeping demon with obvious reluctance. 

Helena, who was back in fine form it seemed, suggested that they go down to the bookshop and find Hastur and Eddie, who were both down there with Jack and Gregor. 

They seemed to like the idea and scurried off with Helena smiling after them. 

"You seem to be well," Aziraphale noted as he coaxed the nipple into the sleepy demon's mouth. 

"Why shouldn't I be?" asked Helena primly, folding her slender hands in her lap " 'Mama' is gone once again, and yet the twins remain here...with me. "

"So you've won. The twins don't seem to wish to leave, and their err... 'Mother' has gone.”

Helena's face darkened slightly, and a little frown came onto her face,"One doesn't win with someone like 'Mama'. Whatever else I can say about the creature, she is persistent in her own odd way. I don't know if she loves the twins, but I do know that she wants them. I have no doubt that now that she knows the twins will not leave, she will try to return again and, I believe, try to drive us out. But..." Helena said waiving a hand, her expression lightning once more. "That may yet be a long time off. No sense in fretting over what has not yet come to pass. It could be years in your human time before she returns. Let us talk of other things now. Have you heard anything from little Hastur's caregiver?"

"Regrettably, no. It does worry me," Aziraphale gently took the now empty bottle out of Crowley's mouth and placed the pacifier passed his sleeping baby's lips. 

Helena raised an eyebrow, "And...do you think that he's coming back?"

"...I'm not certain. He didn't know how long the assignment might take, it could be months or even years before he comes back for Hastur... and that worries me greatly. Poor little Hastur is in no state to orphaned, hes really such a delicate little thing, though he wouldn't like me to say it. Not to mention, I know that Crowley is only putting up with Hastur for my sake, I fear that making this arrangement permanent won't be very good for either of them. Gregor does wonderfully with him - but would he want a full time little?"

"I don't think he would mind. He has bonded with the little thing quite well. If it does come down to it, now that 'Mama' is gone we could keep Hastur in the mirror realm, so that Crowley could have ample time away from him. Eddie and the twins seem to get on with him quite well. Your little demon Crowley also has exceeded my expectations for someone he has so much...history with," Helena patted the angel's arm, "And fear not, Angel Aziraphale, there is hope yet. Hastur's caregiver may yet return to us. There is little that is certain until it is certain."

Aziraphale blinked, trying to sort out that last bit, "I do suppose that we shouldn't start fretting quite yet."

"Just so, " She smiled, "Now, I think shall go and find the twins." She rose and begin to leave, followed by a flurry of mismatched fabrics. 

"Helena - " Aziraphale called out after her, "Does... Does it still bother you? About...That is... the twins not calling you 'Mama'?"

She paused, then turned to meet the angel's gaze, "More than you shall ever know. "

Before Aziraphale could blink, she was gone.


	263. Chapter 263

'Well," said Gabriel sitting back down without invitation. " I may have, sort of....unintentionally discorporated your spy. You know... The little lizard guy. "

"And?" said Lucifer with a mix of curiosity and irritation. 

"Well, I was wondering if you couldn't... You know... "Gabriel waved a hand about "re-corporate him?" 

"Why?" Asled the devil, leaning over the desk. 

Gabriel's mouth pressed into a thin line, "Well, I... Briefly worked with a...friend of his while he was dead... Properly dead, not just discorporated, and...I noticed he was very sad."

Lucifer stared blankly at the Archangel before him. "He.... was sad.... Ligur? Was sad."

"No... Not Ligur. Ligur was dead. The one with the toad.... His friend.... "

"Hastur," Beelzebub said, with more than a hint of irritation. 

"Hastur! Yes! The toad. He was sad.... and he'll be said again... because I, quite inadvertently, discorporated his lizard friend."

Lilith, who was still atop of the desk, leaned forward until her face was uncomfortably close to Gabriel's,

"And why exactly do you care?"

" I don't! I just.... think that - what was his name?"

"Ligur," Beelzebub sighed. 

"Ligur... Should be re-corporated.... You know, to set things right. "

Lucifer sat straighter in his chair,"You actually care about the fate... of a demon. "

"No! Well...technically it's the fate of two demons. I mean.... maybe I do.... just a little... It was slightly.... technically...my fault, after all. And the little froggy fellow was alright...for a demon. He made me laugh. "

"I suppose that I could see that Ligur's re-corporation is expedited."

"Great.... Ah... Th-thank... Y-oou-ough" Gabriel said, though it was cleverly (or so he thought) as a cough. Suddenly uncomfortable, Gabriel stood, grabbing Beelzebub by the arm (which made her fly emit an unhappy buzz and glare at the archangel) and pulling the Prince toward the door,"We should be going now!"

"You're welcome," Lucifer called out after him. 

"Well...That was weird," Lilith said, rolling over to her back on the desk, knocking off more papers and an inkwell the devil had inadvisably placed there. 

"Extremely," Lucifer blew out another mouthful of smoke, "This almost gives me...What does one call that feeling of optimism for the future? It's been so long I've forgotten."

"Hope? " Lilith said, "Dangerous thing, that - you should be careful."

The devil didn't respond, he simply gazed thoughtfully at the door that his former friend had left through, a contemplative hum leaving his lips.


	264. Chapter 264

Crowley grumbled and snuggled back up to his warm, soft angel. He had been awoken by what he could have sworn were faint sobs. He had listened for awhile and there had been nothing, so he had decided it wasn't worth getting out of his cozy bed for. Just as he was about to drift off he heard it again. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

His first thought was to wake up Aziraphale, but then he thought that as he was a big strong demon he would go and see what it was for himself. He wiggled out of bed and frowned - it was cold outside the blankets, and his diaper was very wet and sagged uncomfortably low between his legs. He grunted, grabbed his starry teddy (for backup) from out the tangle of blankets, and waddled out to the sitting room. 

He had been expecting the twins, who were still quite sad over their “Mama's” departure as "Mama" did seem to be quite gone for good - (Apparently, sometimes if you avoided a problem long enough it really did just go away on its own.) He did not expect Hastur, whom he found on the sofa, rocking back and forth, making unhappy noises as he rubbed Ligur's scarf over his face. 

'Err..." said Crowley, apparently loudly enough to be heard, as Hastur's head snapped up towards Crowley. 

The demon shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as black eyes bored into him, "Err.... Do you want me to get Gregor? Or Helena maybe?... Eddie? "

Hastur grunted what Crowley presumed to be a "no" then hid his face in the scarf again and went back to rocking. 

Crowley really, really wanted to leave and go back to bed. But...He also had an insatiable desire to make Aziraphale proud of him. He imagined how his Angel's face would light up when he saw how well Crowley had taken care of stupid little Hastur. He'd get all of the cuddles, all of that glowing angel adoration. Aziraphale would tell him how clever and wonderful he was, maybe Helena and Gregor as well. He definitely wasn't staying because he cared at all about Hastur looking so sad and pathetic curled up on the sofa. 

He waddled over and sat down besides the rocking toad demon, remaining silent for a long while until he quietly asked, "Do you wanna sit in the bath?"

Hastur stopped moving and his moans of despair quieted, "Bath?"

"That'sssss what I sssaid. You like water. "

"Bath frogs?" 

Crowley was pretty sure he'd seen Hastur's plastic frogs all lined up by the claw foot tub the last time he'd been in that bathroom, "Yesssss, I think they're in the bathroom."

Hastur grunted and followed Crowley into the bathroom, though he watched the ginger demon with wary eyes. 

Crowley turned on the tap, then began attempting to undress Hastur....which was far more of an ordeal than the snake demon had anticipated. Hastur wiggled fiercely and kept trying to escape to climb, still half dressed, into the bath. Crowley sighed, and channeled Nanny Ashtoreth, trying to be patient with the frog - though Hastur seemed intent not to make it easy. As soon as Crowley managed to wrangle the deminic toad's diaper off he proceeded to pee all over Crowley and the floor.

The demon grumbled and sighed, but didn't lose his patience as he let Hastur go so the little toad could scurry over and crawl in the tub, submerging himself in the warm water. 

With a small miracle, the floor and Crowley were clean, and with another small miracle his own diaper was dry. He sat on the edge of the tub and dumped handfuls of plastic reptiles into the water, "You're getting your scarf all wet having it the bath. I can dry it and put it on the sink" 

Hastur growled and clutched the soggy scarf closer. 

"Fine," shrugged Crowley. 

Hastur mumbled something Crowley couldn't make out, "What'ssss that?"

"He's not coming back," Hastur said staring straight ahead. 

Crowley furrowed his brow, "Who'sssss not coming?"

"Ligur. He's not coming back - it's been ages and he's not coming back. He probably doesn't even want to...The bastard. He probably left me here because he wants rid of me.” 

"Of courssse Ligur is coming back," Crowley said in his most placating tone. 

Hastur beat his fists against the water, "NO, HE ISN'T! Don't lie to me!"

"Fine. I don't know if Ligur'sssss coming back, but I do know that he didn't abandon you here on purposssssse."

"How?" asked Hastur angrily, slumping down in the tub until only his black eyes and mop of white hair were showing.

"Because you're really terrible when you're big. You're angry and bossssssy and hossssstile, and you kidnapped me! I don't know a single demon who likes you - "

Hastur glared," The fuck's your point?"

"- I'm getting there!...You're pretty tolerable as a Little...actually kind of.... Nice. Comparatively. My point is... If Ligur didn't ditch you when you we're big and terrible, he won't ditch you now that you're small and almossssst cute... Almost. He'sss probably trying really hard to come back to you. And if...if he doesn't you...can ssstay here. Well, with Gregor.... The angel is mine. It isn't ssssso bad.... You can lick the wallsssss."

Hastur grunted, but it wasn't quite such an angry grunt as he had been making before. 

"Do you want to go watch Kermit? "

Hastur looked up to Crowley with big sad black eyes and nodded with a simple utterance: "Frog." 

Crowley wrangled the frog demon out of the bath and began to wonder when he had started to actually care about what happened to the toady little bastard.


	265. Chapter 265

"I really don't know why you bother," Barbas said, fiddling with a bit of the enormous marble track he had set up in the "waiting room"- in other words, the limbo to which all discorporated demons went to await their new corporation (which would be granted only after completing heaps and heaps of monotonous paperwork...and whenever someone bothered to remembered to check the queue).

"I told you," growled Ligur, pacing about the room once again, looking for anything resembling a way out - a crack in the wall, a gap in the floorboards - "I need to get out."

Barbas shrugged, "Someone will come eventually and you will get a new corporation soon enough. No sense in fussing so much."

Ligur whirled around an took in the demon. Incoporeally he looked more or less like how he had looked coporeally: Copper colored skin, a beard and mane of golden hair, shiny white fanged teeth and cat's eyes. He also looked to be attired in clothing that even Ligur knew humans hadn't worn in quite some time, "And how long exactly have you been here?"

Barbas stroked his beard, "Let's see what was it... fascinating time really...there was that da Vinci chap. Interesting fellow, have you ever seen his designs for the.... "

"Barbas! The number! The year. Humans put numbers to everything."

'Yes, both clever and pointless if you ask me, though I suppose no one did. I think it was around the end of the 1500s."

"You do know that on earth the 2000s now?"

"Is it?" Barbas said sounding quite unperturbed. He shrugged, "Well, it probably won't be nearly so long for you, maybe only a couple hundred years. You probably haven't pissed off nearly as many people as I have... and also haven't completely forgotten what it was you we're supposed to be doing on Earth...You know, its been ages now and it still hasn't come back to me. "

Ligur slammed his fist into the wall, "I CAN'T WAIT TWO HUNDRED YEARS! HASTUR NEEDS ME NOW!" He immediately regretted speaking, for he'd given far to much away. 

"Needs you hmmmm? "Barbas's bushy eyebrows rose and he looked so intently at Ligur that if he had still possessed a corporation it would have shivered,"This Hastur... He wouldn't happen to be a Little would he?"

Ligur was very still and said nothing, but something in his countenance must have betrayed him, because Barbas smiled, “Ahhhh, so I'm right.... I usually am, you know."

Ligur's eyes turned hard,"If you dare.... "

Barbas only held up his hands, smiling his fanged smile, "Peace friend.... Peace. I may be adept at uncovering secrets, but I am equally as skilled at keeping them. I wish you and your little Hastur no ill will. Besides...Who would I tell down here? "

Ligur remained unconvinced, "Hastur and I are Dukes of Hell - you have a lower rank. You could attempt to usurp us with this information. Take a dukedome for yourself, perhaps."

Barbas barked out a laugh,"That is the exact opposite of what I want."

Ligur narrowed his eyes, "And what do you want?"

"Ideally, a nice cushy posting on earth to see what humans are doing with machines these days. I bet the fascinating little things have come up with some marvelous new inventions."

"They have," said Ligur "carriages that move without horses and plays that you can watch in mirrors. They call it tell-a-vision. "

"Tell-a-vision? How charming, how do they – Oh, never mind." Barbas said, waving one large hand dismissively. "To tell the truth, I am under no illusions that I will get out of here anytime soon. And really it hardly bothers me. Here I have all the time in the world to tinker. I've come up with some marvelous concepts... I've just drawn them out right over here, if you'd like to see-"

"I wouldn't,” said Ligur, slumping up against a wall. 

"No... I don't suppose you would. " Barbas stroked his beard again and picked up his marble, placing it at the beging of the track, "Did it ever occur to you to wonder where I get all the the parts for my little pastime?"

Ligur watched the marble roll down the elaborate track down spirals, picked up by a little clockwork figure and deposited on another part of the track, then down another spiral, to be picked up at the bottom by something resembling what Ligur knew to be a called a "Ferris wheel".

"Not in the least," He replied tiredly, still watching the marble go. 

Barbas, walked over to the exceptionally uncomfortable looking sofa and fished around underneath it. He brought out a sizable mirror - a good four by four feet in size. 

"I take a little jaunt through here. I've never been farther than the first two rooms, but theoretically, if you went in and found another mirror that was connected to earth you could go there, find a nice human to possess and get back to your Little."

Ligur frantically reached for the mirror, but Barbas pulled it just out of his reach, "I have to warn you, it's a bloody maze in there. You could just as easily be lost, for years or forever. Even I have no idea how deep the mirror realm goes. Might be best if you stay here... Wait it out."

"I have to go. I can't sit idly by if there is the slightest chance that I can do something to return to my Little Toad. I can let him think I've abandoned him. He's been abandoned far to many times before. He needs me.... And I need him, and I will do anything, to return to him... Anything. "

Barbas nodded and relinquished the mirror to Ligur. "Very well then, and for what it is worth from a demon... Good luck."

Ligur nodded back, he propped the mirror up against the wall and crawled through. 

It was rather unfortunate timing, however, because Barbas had just turned back to his marble track debating on where to add the new expansion when a door appeared in the wall behind him, and who should step through but Lilith...and the Devil himself.


	266. Chapter 266

Gregor looked down at the demon in his arms. He was staring blankly off into space, clutching Ligur's scarf and occasionally letting out an unhappy little grunt behind his pacifier. 

Hastur had been increasingly distant since Gregor and Aziraphale had found him that morning, curled up with Crowley, sleeping on the sofa. Gregor could practically feel the sadness radiating off the demon. He tried as best as he could to care for him, to at least make him comfortable if he could do nothing else. He wrapped him up and held him close to tell him another story of Frog and Toad (Hastur's favorite for reasons obvious to all). But he could tell Hastur wasn't listening.

"You miss your Daddy? Hmmmm? " Hastur grunted, and returned to looking listlessly at the wall. 

Gregor stifled a sigh. Truth be told he had often wished that Ligur wouldn't come back. Gregor had thoroughly enjoyed looking after the little. Gregor didn't terribly mind temper tantrums or being peed on - and Hastur really was a quite nice baby once you figured out what he wanted and he got used to you. Caring for Hastur had eased the large emptiness he had felt since Jack had taken in Eddie as his little. However, Gregor didn't want this...He didn't want this suffering for Hastur, and it was terribly obvious that Hastur was suffering. 

Gregor almost wished that Hastur would be angry. That he would cry or rage or pee on all of Gregor's possessions. Anything would be better than this quiet resignation. It seemed so very un-Hastur like and it rather unnerved Gregor. 

Hastur now spent most of his time either in Gregor's arms or curled up on the sofa with the other Littles. They tried to engage him with gamed and stories and episodes of the Muppets, but it was no use. Crowley even tried to get Hastur to do... Something by going through his music collection and trying to find something that Hastur would like. He settled on 'Jeremiah was a Bullfrog' but even that didn't produce any reaction out of Hastur - that is, until Crowley tried to tum it off, and Hastur began to howl as if he had been doused in holy water. Which resulted in them being stuck with a very distant baby demon and "Jeremiah was a Bullfrog' being played on loop. 

The situation getting no better, Gregor did the only clever thing he could think of to do: Consult Helena. 

Helena had been so recently out of sorts herself that Greogor thought she might have unique insight into what they might be able to do for the poor baby toad. 

"He's very small," Helena noted after observing the demon. 

"Is there anything we can do to bring him back to the way he was? He's so dreadfully unhappy as it is. "

"I do imagine," said Helena reaching out to stroke the sleeping Hastur's pale cheek, "that he will be in much better spirits if his Daddy returns"

"'If'...Then you do not believe he will. "

"It is, " said Helena, "a possibility we must face."

“If Hastur's caretaker does not return, what then? I would not mind to keep him Helena, but he suffers so."

"Time will tell. If the demon Ligur does not return then we can only care for the baby the way he is now. He is sad, Gregor, let him be sad. And in a few of these human years - two or twenty or maybe a hundred - it is possible that Hastur will grow...accustomed to the loss and come back to us."

Gregor pondered this for a moment. He wanted Hastur, really he did, but Hastur already had a Daddy and a home...in Hell, "Will Hell come for him, do you think? Will there be others who come for him if he stays here long enough? Aziraphale told me that demons came for Crowley once."

Helena shrugged, "Let them come if they wish, but they won't take him. We agreed, all of us, to watch over the little demon Hastur until his Daddy returned, and we will do that. Even if he never returns."

Gregory hummed in agreement, holding Hastur tighter to him.


	267. Chapter 267

Ligur was not enjoying his time in the mirror realm. If he'd had a physical head, he was pretty certain it would be arching. He'd ventured into rooms and came out the same door to different hallways, walked up stairways that sometimes took him exactly where he had started from, once he'd even tried to open a window only to find nothing but sheer void so deep and dense that staring at it made his very essence ache. It shouldn't, he thought, be so bloody hard to find a mirror in a place called the "mirror world".

He gave up looking through yet another dusty room, filled with weird junk, and opened the door he had come through - which, incidentally, was the only door, at least that Ligur could see (at this point he wasn't ruling out doors on the ceiling or invisible doors or something equally as absurd). For all that Ligur could say about Earth, at least when you went through a door there you had a good idea of where you would be when you came out the other side. Here things weren't nearly so certain. 

He found himself in yet another unfamiliar hallway with an atrociously patterned carpet of muddled red, brown, and orange. This time, however, there were living (or at the very least moving sentient being shaped) things at the end of it. They tilted their faceless heads curiously, and began to float towards Ligur. 

"I don't suppose that either of you know where I might find a mirror?"

The one closest to him made a low gargling growl. Ligur had no idea if it was an answer to his question in a language he could not understand or just a sound the thing made. Either way it wasn't particularly helpful. 

The thing drew quite close to him, and Ligur felt a sort of prod in what might reasonably called his mind. It took Ligur only a few seconds to realize that this was the thing in front of him, trying to find out what he was. He attempted for a while to impress on this thing an idea of a mirror, but it didn't seem to work. The thing just tried to poke at him with a long twisted finger and make inquisitive growls. Eventually it seemed to bore of him and simply turned about and left, disappearing around a corner, the other wraith trailing after it. Ligur didn't bother trying to call after it. He sighed and went back to his systematic search of rooms for a mirror. 

He lost count of how many rooms he had been in now. He wondered how much time had passed in the human world. Seconds? Days? Years? Centuries? Would he finally find a mirror only to discover that he'd been away from his Little toad for thousands of years? Satan, he hoped that the angel and the rest of them didn't tire of Hastur and kick him out. Hastur was rather a handful, he needed so much, and they hadn't sighed up to care for the troublesome toad forever. Ligur hoped his baby had had the sense not to pee on anything too important... But he highly doubted it. 

It was a handful more rooms before Ligur encountered the third mirror wraith. This one looked significantly more solid than the others. She appeared to be a dark haired woman wearing what might have been a wedding dress at one point, but was now reduced to little more than a collection of voluminous lacy rags. Ligur spotted her from as distance as she walked out of an open door and down the hall. 

Though she looked much more like the mirror wraiths that were familiar to him, he had a rather strong feeling that he should not approach her. So, lacking any other strategies, he began to follow her from a distance. 

She walked down hallway after hallway, Ligur lurking in the shadows behind her. He followed her to the end of a hallway that had no doors, and watched as she disappeared into the wall. 

Ligur could have screamed. More time wasted! Another dead end - in this case quite literally. He was going to leave, but something completed him to walk to the place where the wraith had disappeared and reach out to touch the wall. His fingers found something cold, and when he brought his hand away, his fingertips were covered in dust. He stared for a long while, processing what this meant.... Then he descended on the wall, wiping at the thick layer of grime to reveal....a mirror. Coated in grime and hidden in shadows, it hadn't looked like a mirror at all, but a mirror it was. Maybe the most beautiful mirror that Ligur had ever laid his incorporeal eyes upon.

He wasted no time in scurrying through it, unspeakably relieved at the prospect of being that much closer to his Little Toad.

The place that Ligur ended up in was dark and dank and covered in a thick layer of dust, but light was streaming through a window, and it was unmistakably Earth. 

Ligur breathed a metaphorical sigh of relief - as he now was far less solid on Earth then he had been in Hell or the Mirror world, he would need a body if he wanted to interact with anything there.

It was a simple matter to travel to London when one didn't have a body, but it was a somewhat more involved affair to find a suitable host body. He had to find a human that had some connection with the spirit world, one who also possessed a certain kind of strength about them. If one chose a weak or unstable host... It didn't end well. The human deteriorated, and if a demon wasn't quick to get out of the body soon enough, they could be become...entangled with the biological mess, only to be freed of the rotting body when the human died. Ligur was very keen to avoid that fate. He had enough problems without being stuck in a rotting fleshsack. So Ligur spread his awareness over all of London, and waited for a suitable human to open themselves to the less than corporal aspects of their world...


	268. Chapter 268

Crowley knew he shouldn't be, but he had to admit he was just the ever-so-slightest bit jealous of all the attention Hastur was receiving. It seemed as if everyone was cooing over or offering the baby demon something, and Crowley, who had largely come to consider himself the resident baby demon, couldn't help but feel somewhat usurped. 

He had protested often about being unnecessarily babied by his angel as well as the twins and the mother mirror wraiths, but now that he wasn't being fussed over, he found he rather missed it. 

It didn't help much that the twins were still obviously melancholy about the departure of the dreadful thing they called their "mother" and were therefore getting far more attention than usual themselves. Crowley was neither sad nor particularly little, so he didn't warrant any extra fussing over. 

To be honest, the demon though he would be more resentful of Hastur than he was. He didn't actually mind that the stupid little thing was getting attention (and Crowley wasn't currently ready to examine what that meant)...He just wanted attention for himself as well. 

It was all his angel's fault really. The fussy thing has spoiled him to the point that he was fairly certain that if he didn't get a certain amount of angel attention per day he'd simply wither up and die. 

Obviously, he needed a plan. The first plan was to break an arm or some other replaceable part of his corporation. But he just wanted a bit of a cuddle and to be cooed over, not to make his angel fret. Crowley didn't like to see his angel worry, and he was fairly certain that breaking his corporation would make the angel worry. 

The second plan was arson, because the second plan was almost always arson. It was dismissed almost immediately. 

The third plan was to actually speak to Aziraphale. But every time he tried to practice the words in his head they sounded unbearably whiny. "Please, Angel, I need some attention!" was the best he could come up with. At least it certainly beat "Angel, even though I know that we live in the same place and spend lots of time together, I feel like you're not focusing on me enough. Could you please just smother me with all the cloying affection that I swear I don't need?"

The fourth plan was the one he went with. He waited until the opportune moment: His angel was taking a bath, while he was sprawled out on the bed playing something very dark and demonic that definitely wasn't Animal Crossing on his phone. He waited until he heard the plug on the tub being pulled, then furrowed his brow and put his plan into action. 

Aziraphale entered, cheeks flushed, curls fluffed, wrapped in a soft looking powder blue robe. He looked puzzled, and turned up his pert little nose to sniff the air. He turned to the demon, curiosity shining in his eyes, "Crowley, dear... Did you have an accident?"

Suddenly ashamed, even though this was going perfectly to plan, the demon nodded.

"Oh well, darling, let's get you changed," Aziraphale hurried over to Crowley, helping him up and onto his hip, careful not to put any pressure on the demon's bottom. It couldn't be helped though as Aziraphale laid him on the changing table, the mess spread and Crowley grimaced. 

Aziraphale rubbed his tummy and made that little cooing noise that Crowley had been longing to hear, "You're doing so well, darling. I know you don't like accidents like this, but you mustn't fret. We'll have you clean and comfy again lickety split."

Crowley didn't like this, and not just because of the current uncomfortable state of his diaper, as the angel reached for the tabs of his diaper he scooted back on the changing table, hiding his head behind his knees. "Stop, Angel. I'm sorry, it wasn't an accident."

"Really, darling, I've told you before... Its perfectly alright if you want to.... "

"Nooooo!" Crowley cried, "I did it because I wanted your attention! "

"Oh... Really, Crowley, you couldn't have used you words and asked?"

"Words are hard, " Crowley sniffed, "And I ssssounded whiny. "

"Crowley, I'm not going to be bothered if you need a bit more attention than I've been giving you. I have been quite focused on Hastur lately, and the twins, with every thing that's been going on...I hate to think I've neglected you...”

"You haven't neglected me, angel! I'm biiiiggggg. I can take care of myself. I don't need a bottle or looking after or anything.... I jussst.... "

"Wanted a bit more of my time," the angel looked down at Crowley but he wasn't cross like the demon thought he should be. Instead he looked soft and indulgent, "I think its a very good idea to spend some time together, just the two of us, and - Oh! I have just the idea for it!...But next time, dear, just ask. I promise I won't ever be cross with you, even if you do whine. And it certainly will be less uncomfortable for you than this." The angel patted one of Crowley's knobby knees, "Now lets get you out of that soiled diaper, dear. Then I think a nap, for the both of us."

"Sssss'okay, Angel. I'll just miracle it away."

"Oh, I won't hear of it," replied the angel, smiling in a way that in anyone else Crowley might have described as wicked, "Come now, lie down for me, dear."

Crowley grudgingly complied, the mess in his diaper shifting up against him in a way that made the demon flinch. Aziraphale hummed as he set about cleaning up Crowley's most private bits with cold baby wipes. The demon grimaced and really had no idea if Aziraphale meant this as a kindness or a punishment for trying to trick him. 

Uncomfortable diaper change aside, it really had all worked out decently well for him. He was getting a special night with his angel. He closed his eyes and wondered what Aziraphale was planning.


	269. Chapter 269

"Bloody-minded scarlet witch..." Sargent Shadwell grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at Madam Tracy. 

She just patted his arm, "Why don't you go read your magazines, dear? Mrs. Chowdry will be here any minute." (Anathema had very kindly lent Sargent Shadwell some of her magazines, so he'd have something else to occupy his mind with other than witches and their respective number of nipples now that he was technically retired. He did seem to be enjoying them, and currently had a wall of pictures complete with little pushpins with strings attached - that really meant nothing, but Shadwell thought that they looked impressive- of 'evidence' that several politicians, business people, and celebrities were really lizard aliens that were part of a secret organization that dressed in black robes and ate babies as they worshiped Satan. He had pinpointed Lady Gaga as their leader. He rather suspected her of having a great many nipples). 

Shadwell grumbled, "I won't have witchcraft in my house!"

"My house, dear," she said and led Shadwell into the sitting room to his favorite chair where he could grumble without disturbing either her guest or her seance. She patted his arm and asked if he'd like a cup of tea. He grunted a way that she knew to mean 'yes'. Just as she was handing him his tea, the bell rang. 

She adjusted the silk scarf she was wearing in her hair and opened the door with a smile and a flourish. She offered refreshments to Mrs. Chowdry, who wished very much to find out where her dead sister (whom she almost exclusively referred to as "that bitch") had hidden the jewelry she had stolen from her before she was most inconveniently hit by a bus. 

Madam Tracy set about doing all of the things that one needed to do to make a seance look good and proper - dimming the lighting, using phrases like 'beyond the veil". Then she sat down in a flourish of skirts and scarves and closed her eyes. She concentrated on feeling the world around here, on listening to the voices that were always there, softly murmuring, but you couldn't hear unless you really listened. 

Her eyes snapped open, and she lifted a hand, examining the lacquered finger nails and bangle covered wrist. "This will do," she said, and, without a glance to the rather confused Mrs. Chowdry, she stood and walked out of the room. 

She strode out though the living room, which made Sargent Shadwell look up from the article he had been reading about the Large Hadron Collider being a multi-dimensional portal intended to awaken Osiris, the Egyptian god of death.

He narrowed his eyes at the retreating back of Madam Tracy. Something... He felt, was rather fishy here. He stood up and went to get his coat.


	270. Chapter 270

Crowley laid on his belly on his and Aziraphale's bed, swinging his feet in the air as Eddie rifled through his closet.

"How about this? " Eddie asked holding up a black dress patterned with red roses. (Crowley loved all the mirror wraiths deeply, but he wouldn't trust a single one of their fashion senses with this very important task).

"Not special enough, Angel has seen me in that before."

Eddie turned back towards the closet and rolled his eyes. 

"How about this one then?" He held up a black shirt with lacy, flowing bell sleeves. 

"Oooh. Yess, I like that - with my red trousers, I think."

"Maybe a black rose in your hair? That would look nice."

"Yessssss! I knew there was a reason I chose you!"

Crowley wiggled into the the shirt, as Eddie looked through drawers for Crowley's red jeans.

"Lay down on the mat, I'll change you. "

'Ssss'okay, I'm just going to wear a pull up."

Eddie raised an eyebrow,"For the entire evening? What if you pee more than once?"

"I'll hold it."

"Suuuurrree you will" 

Crowley looked rather offended at this. "I will," he sniffed, "Bessides a diaper would completely ruin the lines of my trousers. Think of the aesssthetic, Eddie!"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but helped him into the star patterned pull up anyway. 

Then he watched as Crowley wiggled into the ridiculously tight red trousers. The demon miracled up a pair of black lace socks on his feet (having only just remembered that he could do that, and not have to struggle with getting the clothing on his corporation the human way) then his black combat boots. 

Eddie was then tasked with combing and styling the Demon's hair and applying his eyeliner. Eddie kind of loved it. He was starting to understand why the twins enjoyed dressing Crowley up so much. 

In the end, Crowley looked lovely, and Eddie told him as much. The demon blushed and flicked his forked tongue out, hissing a quiet, "Thank you.”

Eddie walked Crowley to the stairs. Aziraphale had insisted they not actually go out, deeming it still far too cold for snake demons who couldn't thermoregulate. Instead he had set up dinner in the bookshop. Not a soul had been allowed down there while the angel made preparations. 

Now, standing at the top of the stairs, Crowley suddenly felt quite nervous, he looked to Eddie with large yellow eyes. "What if...” He began and Eddie had to keep himself from groaning. Why was it so obvious to literally everyone but Crowley that the angel adored him? 

Eddie cut him off, "Aziraphale loves you, and you guys have been together for like...literally forever. You hand feed him cake and he changes your diapers. How more intimate can you be? Nothing bad is going to happen, you're just going to have a nice time with your angel."

Crowley sniffed, "I know that. I'm not nervous. It'sss not like this is the first ssspecial thing we've done together while I'm big in a really long time." Crowley rounded in Eddie, grabbing his arm, "What if I don't know what to say? What if I forget words? All the wordsss. "

"Then just stare soppily at each other like you usually do," Eddie shrugged, "Aziraphale loves you when you pee on him, he's going to love you as you are now too."

"Crowley, dear," Azriphale's voice drifted up the stairs. "Dinner is ready darling, are you coming?"

"Yes, Angel," Crowley called back and, with one final look at Eddie, scurried down the stairs.


	271. Chapter 271

Aziraphale cooed over Crowley the minute he saw him, telling him how absolutely lovely he looked. Again Crowley blushed and told his angel that he looked lovely as well - because he did: In his best suit and his prettiest tartan that had delicate lines of gold running through it that shimmered in the tables candlelight. 

The angel gave Crowley a hug and a kiss on the cheek before pulling out his chair for him. The angel had piles of sushi arranged out before them, as well as wine goblets, and a couple bottles of wine that Crowley recognized as ones Aziraphale had been saving for a special occasion. He grasped his napkin (tartan, of course), twisting it in his hands, fighting the urge to bring it up to his mouth and suck on the edges like he did with his blankie. 

Aziraphale poured them both a glass of wine, and Crowley gulped his down almost immediately. Aziraphale just hummed and refilled his glass before sitting down to carefully contemplate which piece of sushi he should dip in what sauce, his pudgy face screwed up in concentration.

And Go... Sata...someone Crowley loved his angel. He took another gulp of wine and watched as his angel finally popped the first piece of sushi in his mouth with a happy little wiggle in his seat.

Twenty minutes and multiple glasses of wine later, Crowley was balancing four pieces of sushi between his chopsticks before unhinging his jaw and swallowing all four pieces whole, giggling madly at the aghast expression on his angel's face. 

"Crowley! That is absolutely no way to eat sushi! You naughty serpent! I am hereby revoking your chopstick privileges!"

The angel deftly grabbed the chopsticks out of the demon's hands and picked up a piece of sashimi and brought it carefully to the demon's mouth, "Now, chew slowly, dear... savor the flavors... There you go, darling, you're doing so well. "

After he had swallowed his sushi he made a grab for Aziraphale's abandoned chop sticks. He picked up a piece of nagiri, dipped it deftly into soy sauce (knowing just what his angel liked), and held it up to his Angel's lips. 

Aziraphale beamed and Crowley could no longer quite remember what he'd been afraid of, he just knew that basking in the glow of his Angel's smile there was nothing to be nervous about. They continued on like that, feeding each other bites of sushi and emptying glass after glass of wine until the table was filled with empty plates and wine bottles. 

After dessert, (because with Aziraphale there was always dessert), the angel suggested they retire to the sofa. When Crowley stood the angel tutted, and Crowley didn't understand why until he looked down to see the wet patches that extended from his thighs down to his ankles. 

He didn't have too much time to be embarrassed as Aziraphale had wobbled his way over to Crowley and was now gently leading him to where he had stashed some changing supplies. 

"There we are, darling, let's g-get -hic- you all nice and cleaned up. And... And double diaper you, because you do -hic- you do wet so much when you're a bit.. In... Ine... Inebre..... Drunk."

A thought wiggled it's way into Crowley's hazy mind, "How do you... How do you know that? I've not been drunk...ssss-ss-since I've...since you've known I wassssss little?"

"Really, darling, did you -hic- think that... That I didn't notice the little wet spots on your trousers and the sofa? Or when you miracled your -hic- little messes away?'

"Did you... Did you know I was little then?"

"No, dear, I just -hic- just thought that you never quite got used to that aspect of your corporation. I mean -hic- they're very unruly things... Corporations.... " He leaned down close to Crowley's face and whispered, "Have you ever sneezed? It frightened me -hic- terribly the first time it happened, I thought I was discorporating!"

Crowley just blinked his yellow eyes owlishly, "I love you"

"I -hic- love you too, dear boy, very much."

They both stumbled their way to the sofa, Crowley now sans trousers and boots. They laid down and Crowley wrapped himself around his angel. 

Aziraphale looked down at the demon nuzzling his neck and gently brushed away a stray curl. "I sometimes have trouble believing that you are here with me. -Hic- Having you here, with me is more than I could ever..ever ask for. To care for you is a privilege, and to have you care for me.. ." The angel sniffled and dabbed at his watery eyes with a tartan hankie, "I just...never knew I was lonely until I had you here with me"

"Angel," Crowley began, and he was definitely knew what to say, but he was interrupted by the shop bell.

"Good gracious! I wonder who that could be. I do hope that it isn't a -hic- customer."

Crowley scrunched his brow as they both tried to make their limbs work enough to stand. "When'ssss the lassst time you even sold a book?"

Aziraphale looked very thoughtful, "I.... I sold a fifth edition to a girl who -hic- was having a rather hard week in.... Oh, what was it.... 1973?1974 maybe? "

Crowley leaned against Aziraphale for balance, who was himself leaning on Crowley for the same reason, "Can... Can you even call it a bookshop anymore, if no one issss allowed to shop? "

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "Oh, people are allowed to shop... just not to buy. " 

Crowley nodded, because that made a certain kind of sense...or it seemed to right now, in any case.

The pair wobbled their way over to the front of the shop to see who had come in. 

The minute the demon spotted the red hair and flowing dress of Madame Tracy, he left his angel to lean against a pillar and stumbled over to the human, because he really, really wanted Madame Tracy cuddles. He did not expect Madam Tracy to hold him back with one hand and look at him with dark intense eyes and ask in a low grumbling voice, "Where is Hastur? "


	272. Chapter 272

Hastur? Why did Madam Tracy want Hastur of all demons and not him? He was much cuter than Hastur. Crowley frowned and pouted. 

Aziraphale made his way unsteadily over to his demon, and wrapped his arms around him. 

He squinted at Madam Tracy, "Ligur?"

"Yes. Hastur. Is he still here?" He asked over Shadwell's grumbling about "another bloody demon inside his scarlet woman" (Never mind that it had been an angel who had possessed Madam Tracy the first time - Shadwell was still working out the differences).

"Of course, he's still here, dear, where else would he be?" Aziraphale closed his eyes and took a minute to sober up, "I do believe that he's upstairs with Gregor, if you'll follow me."

Aziraphale gently picked up a still very drunk and confused Crowley, and made his way upstairs. 

Gregor was indeed upstairs, reading to a sleeping Hastur on his lap, the little toad still listening to Jeremiah was a Bullfrog on repeat on the little frog shaped mp3 player that Eddie and Crowley had bought him. (This, it should be noted, was not a kindness for Hastur so much as it was for everyone else. They all could happily never hear another word of that song for the next decade at least).

Hastur cleared the room in a few strides and sat down by Gregor motioning that Gregor should hand him his little toad. Gregor did so, as he recognized the demon currently residing in the human as Hastur's Daddy, though with a hint of reluctance. 

Ligur took in his Little toad. He looked well, he was clean and his pale cheeks had lost a little of their gauntness. His favorite froggy pacifier was firmly in his mouth, bobbing up and down with each sleepy breath. Hastur was dressed in a soft pants, warm socks, and a long sleeved shirt beneath another shorter sleeved one that had some sort of ugly lanky frog on it - Ligur was certain that Hastur did not posses that last one when he came here. Likewise, in addition to Ligur's scarf and one of his frog plushies, Hastur held a plush of the same weird looking frog creature that adorned his shirt. With a pat to Hastur's bottom he found his little toad's diaper to be dry.

Ligur looked up at the motley group of creatures assembled before him. "You took care of him," He said in slight disbelief. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "Of course we did! Really, now! I did promise you, didn't I? Do you think me a liar?.... Angel's never lie.... Well..." (He paused thinking of other angels) " Oh. I do take that back.... Well, I try not to lie. Maybe bend the truth just a smidge here or there and... "

"Angel," Crowley interrupted, looking exasperated yet fond. 

"Well then," Aziraphale gathered his few wits about him. "It really was mostly Gregor who took care of Hastur. They do get along so splendidly. "

Ligur looked to the mirror wraith seated besides him, who he assumed to be Gregor, "You got along...with Hastur.... My Hastur.. "

Gregor nodded, "Yes, he was rather delightful to care for. "

"Delightful... " Ligur said slowly, "So he...didn't tantrum ...or perchance pee on everything you love?"

"No, he did both. But only really when he was upset, and we did manage to keep him away form the books, so really it was hardly anything to fuss over."

Ligur buried his face in Hastur's white hair and whispered a reverent, "Thank you.”

The angel's soft voice filtered its way to him, "Of course, dear"

Aziraphale shifted the demon currently wrapped around him (who seemed to have no shame whatsoever about his diapered bottom being on full display and that made the angel terribly proud) and situated them both in an armchair. 

"If I may ask.... How did... Er.... This- " Aziraphale gestured to Madam Tracy's body, now currently inhabited by Ligur. 

"-Possession!" Shadwell spat out," Bloody evil Possession of my... of my.... jezebel! "

Aziraphale pointedly didn't roll his eyes. "-Happen?"

Ligur took a deep breath and began to recite his account of the unhappy string of events that had led him here. He was just recalling his trip through the mirror world, when Hastur began to stir in his arms. He opened his black eyes and saw that he was in the arms of a near stranger, and he didn't like this one bit. He began to flail around and grunt his displeasure. In his flailing he managed to dislodge an earbud, and he heard for the first time the voice coming out of the human that was holding him.

'Hastur...Hastur...My Little Toad.... It's me.... It's me, baby... "

Hastur went rigid. He knew that voice. Hastur examined the face that was peering down at him. 

"Daddy?" he whispered. 

"Yes, my little toad... Yes... It's daddy, " And Ligur looked very, very close to tears. 

"Daddy! " Hastur threw his arms around Ligur's neck and squeezed hard, worried that as soon as he let go Ligur would just disappear once again. "Daddy..." he half sobbed into Ligur's neck, taking in the unfamiliar and somewhat disconcerting scent of perfume,"Daddy."


	273. Chapter 273

"You will stay here of course," Aziraphale told Ligur, "until we can get a new corporation sorted out for you."

"How we gonna do that, Angel? " Crowley sleepy asked from behind the thumb he had brought up to suck. 

"Adam, I would suppose - like he did for me. "

"He'ssss not the Antichrist anymore, Angel. "

"Well, he really is - you can't stop being what you always have been and always were made to be... That is to say, of course, Adam can be whatever he wants to be...but he still is the Antichrist.... I mean he isn't the Antichrist if he didn't want to be, but he still has a lot of the powers of the Antichrist.... And... "

"Angel." Crowley removed his thumb from his mouth with a wet "pop". 

Aziraphale sighed, "Well, I suppose all we can do is to call and ask him if he will be able to. Oh, I do hope so, I imagine Madam Tracy will be wanting her body back.... "

Aziraphale was poised to say more, but he was distracted by a series of footfalls ascending the stairs. He looked around, he was holding Crowley. Helena was standing in front of the mirror looking calm but slightly puzzled, having just come through. Jack, Eddie and the twins were all seated on the floor having been in the middle of playing dolls when they had barged in. Gregor was on the sofa of course. Madame Tracy/ Ligur next to him, little Hastur on their lap. Sargent Shadwell was hovering over them, grumbling. That was, Aziraphale was pretty certain, everyone. 

So that raised the question, who could be coming up the stairs? Oh, Aziraphale did hope it was Anathema, with Adam. He wouldn't put it past her to come up with solution to a problem before they knew they had it. 

The footsteps were at the top of the stairs now, and Aziraphale turned to look, only standing there wasn't Anathema and Adam. It was Gabriel and Beelzebub, and behind them was Lilith and Lucifer himself. (There was also another demon that Aziraphale didn't recognize, but the angel didn't think particularly note worry in light of the others).

Everyone just sort of stared at each other for a long, tense, while. Beelzebub was the first to speak. "I have no idea what the fuck izzzz going on anymore. Izzzzz that....-" the demon prince stepped forward to squint at the little that was curled up on the lap of Ligur's borrowed corporation, "- Hazzzzztur?"

The demon in question turned angry black eyes towards Beelzebub and growled looking very ready to fight not only the prince of Hell, but the Archangel Gabriel and the Devil himself. 

Then, if you'll excuse the pun, all Hell broke loose.


	274. Chapter 274

Helena grabbed her skirts and tromped to the center of the room, placing her hands up and stating a loud yet calm manner, "QUIET."

The various bickering entities in the room all quieted, "Now... " she rounded on Beelzebub, Lucifer and the rest, "Why are you here?"

Lucifer stepped out in front of the others in one fluid motion."We are here for him," he gestured to Ligur. 

Helena narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"To give him a new corporation since Gabriel so wantonly destroyed his old one while he was working for Lilith and I."

"Hey!" Gabriel objected, but he sounded slightly confused about what he was objecting to. (In his rather empty head, he was trying to puzzle out what 'wantonly' meant).

"Well then, " Helena gestured to Ligur/Madam Tracy. "Feel free to do so, but neither Ligur or Hastur will be going with you if they do not wish to, and if you try and force them to we will make you leave."

"We don't wish to," said Ligur quickly. He had absolutely no idea what was going to happen to them, but he definitely didn't want to go back to Hell now that it was known that Hastur was a Little. 

Lilith who very famously did not like being told what to do, slunk forward to stand face to face, (or really face to breasts as Helena was quite tall), with the mirror wraith, "And who says so?" 

"We do." replied Helena looking rather pointedly at Aziraphale. 

It took the angel a few moments, bit then his lips pursed in a silent, "Oh!"

Lilith then found herself outside in the street dodging cars. She snarled and flung open the door of the bookshop and stomped her way upstairs. 

Lucifer blew out a puff of clove scented smoke and placed a hand out to stop Lilith from doing whatever violence she wished to to Helena. "Impressive," Lucifer said, he looked from Hastur to Crowley. His eyes resting on the little ginger demon, remembering a time long ago, when little Raphael would curl up on his lap like that, and look up at him with big golden adoring eyes, not the suspicious and slightly frightened yellow ones that now bore into him. 

"In light of recent...revelations," Lucifer's eyes briefly flickered back to Hastur, "I think it would be best if you both were...'stationed' on Earth for an indefinite period of time." The Devil snapped his fingers and Madam Tracy found herself again alone in her body squished between a mirror wraith and a now incorporated demon."Let us leave."

Gabriel frowned, "But I didn't even get to hug baby Raphie!" He pouted and Beelzebub, as a reflex, rolled her eyes.

Gabriel went over to the armchair where Aziraphale and Crowley were seated and held out his arms expectantly. Crowley grumbled, but he reached up to give the Archangel a hug - though he hissed when Gabriel squeezed far too tightly, and Aziraphale looked somewhat put out with the entire business.

Lucifer felt sick, in a way he knew had nothing to do with his excessive clove cigarette smoking. He turned away from the scene. “Let us go," he barked again, pointedly, and started down the stairs not particularly caring if any of the idiots bothered following him.


	275. Chapter 275

Lucifer put his fist through the wall as soon as he and Lilith were once again in his private quarters. He could feel the bones in his corporation's fist splinter and crush. With a thought, he set them back to rights before punching the wall again. 

"I can't believe I fucking missed it!"

"Missed what? " Asked Lillith who was busy shedding her loose linen dress as fast as humanly possible. 

"The demon. The white haired one... Fuck.... I can't even remember his name! But he was a Little! All this time, a Little under my care and I never knew! I just left him to fend for himself all these years!"

Lilith shrugged, "He must have hidden it well"

"It doesn't matter, " Lucifer slid down into a chair. "He's my responsibility! I should have known! I could have at least sent him to Earth like I did for Ra-Crowley."

The entire problem was that when it came down to it, Lucifer was a rubbish leader. He'd never wanted to lead anything. Sure, the propaganda since the fall painted him as the glorious and defiant renegade. But it hadn't started that way. No. He'd just had a few questions and a couple concerns and voiced them, and some other angels had agreed. Then they had voiced them to God...and suddenly he was falling, plummeting into the burning abyss with God demanding he rule over hell and the six hundred and sixty six that had fallen with him or else - and he didn't know how! He tried to form some sort of workable hierarchy, basing it on what he had known in heaven and improving what he could, but it was all so much. 

In the early days, God always had some new demand, and the demons were always fighting amongst themselves. The only way he could ever seem to get anyone to listen was by making them fear him. Then there was a never ending stream of human souls he hadn't known what to do with and the demons always seemed to be running off and getting themselves into some sort of trouble. When humans had discovered how to bind them he'd been spending all his time springing wayward demons from dybbuk boxes and seals of Solomon. 

He wondered how many other Little demons there were... How many had slipped through his fingers - had suffered for centuries as a result of yet another of his failures. 

Lilith sat down on the floor by his chair and leaned her head against the armrest. He reached over to toy with a strand of her unruly hair. It wasn't a gesture of submission, her here like this, but one of comfort. 

"I think it's the apple tree again," She said softly, "Or me. God made me what I am, then asked me to take on a role I was both ill suited for and would despise. It went against the nature she had given me to submit to another without question - and what sort of mother would I have made?"

Lucifer snorted, "A dreadful one, I imagine. "

"She likes to set us up to fail. Why stick the off limits tree in the center of the garden? Couldn't even be bothered to put up a do not touch sign. I think she orchestrated it in such a way that you didn't know any Littles had fallen, besides Raphael, of course. You always had a soft spot for the grubby little things - though I can't see why... She probably figured she could make the Littles suffer, then you when you eventually found out. "

Lucifer didn't say anything but hummed. Lilith was likely right, but it didn't ease the crushing feeling of complete and utter failure. Without thinking he began to idly stroke Lilith's hair. 

"You should talk to him."

"Who? The white haired Little? "

"No...well...maybe. But more importantly you should talk to Crowley."

“I highly doubt he wants to see me."

"He seems to be willing to give Gabriel a second chance, and if he can forgive that absolute bellend he can certainly forgive you...I know you want to see the stupid baby again. "

"He's happy now...without me. Unlike Gabriel I realize that some things can never again be the way they once were. "

"That's true.. perhaps it's just my unending optimism -" (This, it should be noted, was said with rather heavy sarcasm) "-but I figure that you can still try to salvage some of the better things from the past as you move forward.” After a moment, because Lilith could never just say something nice, she added, "Though I personally don't see the appeal. I mean, you'll probably be expected to help change his diapers or something equally revolting and baby related."

Lucifer gave a bark that might have been a laugh, and they lapsed back into contemplative silence until Lilith fell asleep on the floor hours later. Lucifer, of course, contemplated leaving here there, but eventually decided to move her to the fur rug by the fireplace, and cover her with a blanket he miracled up. 

He then retired to his study, to joylessly go over reports of overcrowding in Hell, permits for expansion of the river of souls, and mission reports about tempting nuns into eating chocolates despite the fact that they had given them up for Lent.


	276. Chapter 276

"That went much better than expected," Aziraphale noted, trying to keep the tremors out of his voice. The actual devil had just been in his bookshop, after all, and though he seemed significantly calmer than the last time Aziraphale had seen him it still left the angel rather shaken. 

"I think," said Helena,"that the demons Ligur and Hastur might like some rest.”

"Oh yes... Rather... I certainly agree! Would you mind them sleeping in your room Gregor? It already has all of Little Hastur's things in it after all.”

Gregor did not in fact mind, or at least he said he didn't, so the newly re-corporated Ligur found himself being ushered into the room by the pudgy angel and shown where all of Hastur's things were kept.

"We did get him disposable diapers. I hope you don't mind. I know you had him in cloth, but well... these have darling little frogs on them, not to mention, this kind is rather thicker...and well..."

Ligur didn't hear the rest. He didn't know how the angel could possibly think he would be cross at him for going out of his way to take care of his little toad - to buy him things that weren't even strictly needed. 

Aziraphale patted his arm, "I'll leave you to it, dear, and go make you a nice cuppa. Oh! You... You do like tea, don't you?"

Ligur nodded, though at this point Aziraphale could have been asking if he'd like a nice cup of battery acid and his answer would have still been the same. Then the angel, with his own ginger demon wrapped around him toddled off. Presumably to make said cup of tea. 

Ligur laid his little toad out on the changing pad, and as soon as he had unfastened Hastur's diaper his chest was hit with a steady stream of toad pee. He quickly held the diaper back up and waited until Hastur was finished peeing. The toad demon was looking up at Ligur crossly and Ligur knew without a doubt what his little toad was upset about. 

He closed his eyes and half whispered, "I'm so, very, very sorry, Hastur."

Hastur grunted, eventually the stream of pee stopped, laying complacently while Ligur changed him. 

Ligur miracled his clothes clean then disrobed down to his underthings, folding his clothes with military precision and laying them on a chair. He rummaged through the drawers until he found Hastur's familiar and worn gray pants to don. He then gathered up his little toad and crawled into bed cradling him close to his chest. He manifested his chameleon and very gently arranged it so that it was sitting on Hastur's chest. 

He'd done this often over the years, to comfort Hastur, as well as show just how very much he trusted the toad demon, giving him a literal piece of himself to hold. Hastur had always been uncharacteristically gentle with Hastur's chameleon, holding and carefully petting it, as if it were some reverent, fragile thing. 

The angel knocked on the door, and once Ligur had barked a gruff, "Come in", opened it, stepping inside with a tea tray. 

"Tea for you" the angel smiled, " and a bottle for dear little Hastur. Gregor put cinnamon in it, just like he likes."

The angel handed the bottle to Ligur, who only blinked down dumbly at the green bottle emblazoned with colorful turtles. 

The demon was startled from his reverie when Crowley toddled into the room and sat on the bed holding out a fat plush toad. 

"Toad! " Carefully, without disturbing the Chameleon he was holding, Hastur snatched the plushy out of Crowley's outstretched hands. 

Ligur and Aziraphale both looked at Crowley curiously. 

Crowley scrunched up his reddening face. "What? He left it in the ssssitting room.... He likessss to know where all hissss plushiesssss are." 

The angel was staring soppily at Crowley again, and Ligur idly wondered if he ever looked at Hastur that way. (Of course, if he did he thought to himself, he would have to stop immediately...at least in company. It was unbecoming of a demon).

Crowley slunk out of the room before Aziraphale could do anything unforgivable like call him "good". 

"Oh, I am terribly happy about how well they are getting along!" The angel patted Ligur on his blanketed knee. "Now do you need anything else dear?"

'No" Ligur said, what more could this weird angel possibly do for him anyway. 

"Right then" Aziraphale smiled down at him, "Crowley and I have fixed the wards so now we'll have no more uninvited guests barging in on us. So... I'll leave you two to get some rest now shall I?"

Before he could leave Ligur reached out a hand to grasp the Angel's wrist. He had never considered himself a loquacious demon. He much preferred meaningful action to pretty, empty words. He found he had no language to express what it mean to him that this angel of all creatures, and the motley group of beings he consorted with had not just taken care of his troublesome Little Toad, but taken the time to find out how he preferred his bottles and that he like to sleep with every single one of his plushies, and buy him frog themed things... It was more than Ligur had ever dreamed that any creature would do for either of them. He just looked at Aziraphale very intensely until the angel began to look rather uncomfortable, before speaking in a voice that broke just the slightest bit, "...Thank you."


	277. Chapter 277

Crowley was curled up on the sofa, his head resting in Madam Tracy's lap, getting his hair stroked and his scalp scratched, and he definitely wasn't occasionally emitting a noise that might be called a purr. 

Sargent Shadwell was explain to the twins and Eddie and a very enraptured Jack about the Lizard alien cult that ran the world and how they drank human blood in their initation ceremonies. 

Crowley snorted when the twins asked how they could join. Though he was deprived of hemaring Shadwell's probably hilarious response as his angel came back in the room empty tea tray in hand. 

"How are the poor dears?" Madam Tracy asked, giving Crowley a lovely satisfying scritch on the nape of his neck. 

"Very happy to be reunited, I rather think. It was terribly kind of you to let Ligur inhabit your body so that he could come back and reunite with Hastur. "

"Well, once I felt how terribly desperate the he was to see his baby again and I recognized the baby as the little white haired dear you were taking care of, well... Really I had to. Though...."Madam Tracy looked thoughtfull, "I do hope this doesn't become too much of a habit."

"If you want to stop getting possesed, then stop consorting with spirits woman!" Shadwell bellowed. 

Madam Tracy leaned over and patted his knee smiling kindly at her draft old witchfinder and said a single word "No."

She turned back to Aziraphale. "Was that, really the devil? He looked quite different this time. Much less.... Horny. " 

"Rather" tittered Aziraphale. 

Crowley opened his mouth, the fringe of Madame Tracy's silky shawl falling out. He frowned down at the offending tassles, he hadn't realized he been gnawing on them. 

He looked up to Madam Tracy, but she didn't seemed at all bothered that he'd been slobbering all over her pretty shawl. So he shifted so that he could rest his had on her shoulder and ventured " He didn't always look like that."

"What do you mean dear?" asked Aziraphale. "You mean he changes corperations?"

"Yes.... No.... But yes... I meant he looked different in Heaven.... He wasssssd beautiful.... He glowed. "

"Crowley, darling boy, you're remembering Lucifer in Heaven?"

Crowley gave a confused hiss. "Yeeesssss? " he said slowly. "But Ssssatan wasssssn't Satan then... Or Lucifer either, he wassssss called somthing elsssse. " Crowley clutched at his head. "I can't remember, my head hurtssss" he whined. 

"Oh my poor dear baby! That's alright, no one expects you to rember darling. Why don't you come here." The angel holds his arms open and Crowley scuttles across to curl uo I'm the warm lap of his angel.

Aziraphale nuzzles him, and stokes a pudgy hand up and down Crowley's back, stopping to rest briefly on his thickly diapered bottom. Giving it a few pats, Aziraphale announces gently that he needs to be changed. And somewhere in the back of Crowley's mind it registers that Aziraphale just said that out load in a room full of people and Crowley doesn't care. 

Aziraphale is just about to suggest he make bottles and tea for everyone after he tended to Crowley when a bearded face poked through the door waggling one of Da Vinci's notebooks in his hand. (By the general populace this notebook was considered "lost" though Aziraphale though that was terribly silly. The notebook was in his shop, right where it was supposed to be. Not lost in the slightest) The demon smiled, showing his elongated canines, "sorry to bother you, but do you have any more of these?"


	278. Chapter 278

Once it was established that; yes, Barbas was demon and no, he didn't have any ill intentions for any of them, he just wanted to read more about Da Vinci's works, he was invited to sit. 

Though most of them eyed him rather suspiciously, as he explained how Lucifer and Lilith had given him a new corperation after attempting to interrogate him as to Ligur's whereabouts. Then had proceeded to drag him to Earth with them, and subsequently forget about him. 

Aziraphale wanted of course, to believe the best in Barbas. However, Aziraphale hadn't been miracled into existence yesterday, and had his reservations. He suspected that Barbas, might be have been planted here to watch Hastur and Ligur or himself and Crowley. That didn't mean, of course, that Aziraphale couldn't try and be civil with him even if he was a spy. 

Barbas seemed like a decent enough sort, even if he was currently engaged in a conversation with Jack about how human corperations were essentially machines and how intresting all the insides workings were when you opened them up. 

'What do you plan on doing now dear?" Madam Tracy asked Barbas after the conversation about dissection died off. 

Shadwell glared at Barbas and mumbled something no one paid any mind to. 

Barbas sipped his tea, "Well once I, finish my tea I think I'll go and see what the humans have been up to out there. " he gestured vaugly towards the window. 

"That's lovely dear, though are you certain you'll be alright, thing have probably changed a little since you we're last here. Things like, fashion. "

Barbas furrowed his brow, looking down at the rather tattered clothing that Lucifer had miracles up with his corporation. The same clothing he'd been wearing when he had been discorperated. 

Apparently, stockings and brocade were no longer in fashion. Barbas looked around the room, taking ineverones clothing. He snapped his fingers and was wearing dark trousers and a collared shirt, with a vest with brocade embroidery. (He wasn't quite ready to let that go.) 

"Oh that is handy! " madam Tracy exclaimed. 

"Bloody unnatural" Shadwell grumbled. 

Barbas sipped the last of his tea, and set the cup down on the end table. He stood, brushed imaginary dirt off of his new trousers and looked around the room. "Thank you for the tea, but I think I'll be off now. So much to see after all."

"I'll er.. see you out, if you're   
certian." Aziraphale said. 

"I'm coming too. " Crowley said. He had absolutely no intention of letting his Aziraphale be alone with some random demon. 

They showed Barbas out, Crowley glaring at him the entire while, and that seemed to be that. 

Aziraphale and Crowley sat back down, after checking the wards and having g a little look round to make certain there were no other uninvited guests for the day. 

Crowley tugged on Aziraphale vest and whispered. "Can I have a bottle"

"Of course my dear little demon, of course" Aziraphale cuddled Crowley close to him. 

"I'll get them Angel Aziraphale. " Helena nodded to him, then went into the kitchen, returning with several bottles. She handed one to Aziraphale, then turned to Madam Tracy, who had coaxed Eddie into her lap. "Would you like to feed baby Eddie, if he is agreeable? "

"Oh yes, " Madam Tracy looked to Eddie, who shyly nodded. 

Helena turned to Sargent Shadwell. "Would you care feed one of the twins?" 

Shadwell stared at her. He had very little experience with littles. That is to say he had none at all. For some reason Littles didn't tend to want to come anywhere near the strange scruffy man yelling in the streets about witches and nipples and witch's nipples. 

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, not quite certain what he was going to say. The twins seemed to decide for him, one of them climbing into his lap, and looking at him with large (albight creepy) eyes. It the end he didn't take anything but took the bottle with a grunt. 

Madame Tracy looked at him with soft adoration as he, helped by the twin guided the nipple into the Little's mouth. 

The remaining twin curled up in Helena's lap, and for a while all was quite. 

Crowley's eyes begain to flutter shut. He opened them again, because he was biiigggg Go... Sata... Someone damn it, he was big. He was a big demon and he was going to stay awake. He took another gulp of vanilla flavored formula and snuggled closer to his angel, concentrating on the soft conversation that was going on.

Aziraphale was insisting it was too late for Madam Tracy and Sargent Shadwell to go home. He was asking if they didn't want to stay the night. Aziraphale could easily find room for them. Crowley didn't get to hear the Human's reply, because he had drifted off, and was now sligltly drooling onto his angel's best vest.


	279. Chapter 279

Jack padded out to Aziraphale's sitting room with every intention of watching Mary Shelley's Frankenstein for the hundredth time. Everyone else was asleep, Hastur and Ligur, and Madam Tracy we're sleeping in Aziraphale guest rooms. The twins had taken Eddie to sleep in their nursery and he had assumed that both Helena and Gregor we're off into he mirror realm doing something or other. However, he was wrong as there before him on the sofa was Gregor, with a heavy book perched on his lap. 

Jack sat beside him. "You mind if I watch a little television? "

"Frankenstein again?'

Jack nodded. 

He turned on the film, but found himself rather unengaged from it. He'd always found himself the most comfortable with Gregor. Through their natures were quite opposite, Jack and Gregor has seamlessly slid into an easy and affectionate relationship. Jack had never before felt the distance he felt now between them.... And quite frankly he didn't like it. Something was wrong. 

He paused the television. 

"Something is wrong."

"Is it? " asked Gregor. 

"It is" said Jack, "and I'm pretty sure nothing is wrong with me, so therefore something must be wrong with you. " (Jack was indeed quite proud of that bit of logic.) 

Gregor sighed. "Nothing is wrong with me that will not pass with time. "

Jack frowned. "I don't want things to be alright later, I want them to be aright now. Is this about Hastur?"

"Somewhat" Gregor said, rather guardedly. 

Jack leaned close to Gregor, resting his head on the shorter mirror wraith's shoulder. He patted his arm in a way he thought might be comforting. "You took very good csre of him, and well... You knew that you probably couldn't keep him. He's happy now, reunited with that other demon-y fellow. And it does look like they might be sticking around a while, you may yet get to demon-sit. Anyways, now that your not with Hastur all the time, you can spend more time with me and Eddie!"

"I rather think not."Gregor replied, his words oddly gentle. 

Jack looked up at him. "Why not?"

"I don't think Eddie would be amenable."q

"What's amenable?"

"Ahhh... " Gregor paused, his index finger tapping his lips. "It means that I don't think that Eddie would like to. "

"Oh.... Why?"

"I don't think he particularly cares for me. "

Jack stared blankly at Gregor. His mind it seemed, couldn't cope with this new information. "But..... Why? Eddie is great... You're great.... And... I love you both... "

Gregor wrapped a heavy arm around Jack and pulled him close. "Sometimes, my dear Jack, people just do not get on well for one reason or the other. It is alright." He pressed a kiss to the crown of Jack's head. "I think I will retire for the night. "

Jack watched Gregor retreat into the mirror. He flopped in the sofa and stared at the ceiling, all interest in watching Frankenstein yet again gone. He loved Eddie. Eddie was his darling baby, who let Jack smother him with all the cloying the twins wiggled away from, and offered endless love and care in return. Equally he loved Gregor, who was his... Gregor. His beautiful, quiet, irreplaceable, Gregor, who doted on him and always listened when he talked and found him knitting patterns and anatomical books.

He had always just assumed that eventually they would all mesh together. That they would all just fit together, bit that looked like it wasn't going to happen and Jack had no idea what he was going to do. He draped a thin arm across his face and groaned dramatically

What was going to do? Was be going to have to choose either Gregor or Eddie? He couldn't! He couldn't stop being Eddie's Mommy, likewise he couldn't picture his existence without his Gregor in it either. 

He groaned again... Squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He wanted to be in his bed, safely sandwiched between Gregor and Eddie. He needed Helena, but he was feeling to odd and melancholy to get up and go find her. He would do it when he woke up. When he woke up, things would be better.


	280. Chapter 280

"Are you alright dear?" Madam Tracy asked pulling her borrowed robe tighter around her. She had gotten up, it seemed, earlier than anyone else, and had come out to the sitting room to find Jack splayed out on the sofa, half of his long limbs draping down to the floor. His eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling. 

"No... I'm not alright. The tenuous foundation in which I have built all my future happiness has crumbled before my very eyes! "

"Has it? " said Madam Tracy, who was quite unbothered, "would you like to sit and tell me about it. "

Jack uncovered one eye. "Yes"

The mirror wraith sat up and let the Madam sit beside him on the sofa. 

"Now, why don't you tell me what's got you so upset?"

Jack begain to replay the conversation he and Gregor had had last night with wild hand gestures. Finishing with a sorrowful look at Madam Tracy and saying "I don't know what to do... I can't give up one for the other. Does... Does that make me a bad mommy? That I can't give up Gregor for Eddie? "

Madam Tracy opened her arms, and Jack wasted no time in scrambling into her lap and burring his face in her hair. She was a bit frightened for a moment, that he might be too heavy, but like the twins he felt quite insubstantial curled up on her. She ran a hand through his hair. 

"No dear, I don't believe your a bad mommy at all. Have Gregor and Eddie ever spent much time together?"

Jack twisted up his face in thought. "Uhh........ No.... Never..... "

"Have you spoken to Eddie about this? Asked why he doesn't care for Gregor?"

"..... No.. "

"Maybe you should try to talk to Eddie and ask him why he doesn't like Gregor. Then you can either work out the problem between them, or if they just don't like each other, you could simply spend time with Gregor when Eddie is playing with the twins or Crowley. Eddie's a very clever and reasonable Little, he will probably understand that you want to spend time with your... Er... Gregor as well. "

Jack looked at her with big shiny eyes. "Really?"

She smiled at him gently. "Really"

This was a part of her job she had rather missed since she had retired. Most people thought what she did was about pleasure, and it often was, but even more often it seemed to be about comfort. People needed comfort in different and unique ways, they often didn't or couldn't get from others around them. That comfort took different forms. Sometimes it was submission, having her take all the pressure to make decisions away from them for a little while. Sometimes it was Littles, who were living as Neutrals and needed someone to care for them who wouldn't look down on them or expose their secret. Sometimes her clients wanted nothing more than someone to listen to them. Someone who had no bias, someone who wouldn't try and fix them or judge them, but just listen and comfort and sometimes offer gentle advice. 

As much as she adored her grumpy old witchfinder, he didn't quite need her in this way. He wasn't terribly keen on being cuddled and coddled like this. Being here and being able to cuddle all these littles and soothe Jack was filling absence she hadn't really known she was feeling untill now. 

Madam Tracy stroked Jack's back. He seemed less worried now, but was making no move to get out of her lap, and she couldn't say she minded. Her hand came into contact with the waistband if Jack's diaper. On instinct she patted his diapered bottom. 

"You're wet dear."

"I know" he mumbled into her shoulder. 

"You should probably go and get changed before the others wake up."

"I suppose... " he said, but wouldn't bother to remove himself from her comforting embrace for a while yet.


	281. Chapter 281

Crowley woke up before Aziraphale. He stared for a long time at his beautiful sleeping angel. His halo of soft white hair. His long eyelashes resting on his plump cheeks. His hand curled into a loose fist resting on the pillow. He was the most beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen, though maybe he was just a bit biased. 

He flicked his tounge out as a mischievous thought came into his demonic mind. Black scales begain to appear on Crowley's skin untill he was entirely covered. His limbs receded and his form shrunk and lengthened. 

Now a snake, Crowley writhed around in the blankets, luxuriating in the softness against his scales. It felt so very good to be a snake again. He could practically feel his corporation breath a sight of relief

He slithered under the covers and found the bottom hem of Aziraphale's oversized pale blue sweater, then slithered up his angel's soft bare belly. 

It had never bothered him much to be a snake around Aziraphale. It was indeed how that had first met. Crowley had been told to go up and "make some trouble" but he had been taking his time with the task. Spending lazy days exploring the garden and taking long naps in the sun. He had just found a lovely tree to drape himself over and was about to take one such snooze, when a voice exclaimed "oh I haven't seen you before!"

Crowley had frozen, believing he had been caught by the angel and would face some sort of horrible excriluciating punishment for sneaking his way into the garden. But the angel didn't seem angry, quite the opposite in fact. 

He put down his sword in the grass and carefully aproched the snake demon. Holding out both hands. "Aren't you a beautiful creature. Whatever angel made you did a wonderful job... May I? "

He held out a hand, and let it hover over Crowley's head and it took the demon a second to realize that the angel wanted to PET him of all things. He gave a slight nod, and the angel beamed at him. 

Aziraphale spent quite a long time stroking Crowley's scaly back and telling him how lovely he was. Weren't his eyes such a pretty yellow? Didn't his scales gleam ever so brilliantly in the sun? Wasn't hIs little tounge ever so cute? 

Crowley was rather glad snakes couldn't blush. 

That might have been, looking back on it now, the start of Crowley utter adoration of a certain curly haired Guardian of the Eastern Gate. 

He poked his head out of the collar of Aziraphale's sweater. He brought his face very close to his angel's and flicked out his tounge, ticking his chubby cheek. 

Aziraphale grumbled and tried to swat him away, but Crowley ducked and let out a hissing laugh. 

Blue eyes opened and took in the the little snake face before him. "Why you wily old serpent, aren't you just darling."

He booped Crowley's snoot with a finger. Then begain to scritch Crowley's scales in all the best places as he coiled his long body up comfortably on his angel's soft chest. 

"You're in a rather good mood today, aren't you dear? 

"Yesssss" Crowley hissed out. He was warm, curled up on his soft angel getting his scales scritched, what didn't he have to be happy about? 

"I admit, I'm somewhat surprised. I did rather expect you to be a bit more.... Er.... Rattled by your um.... Former boss dropping by. "

Crowley attempted to shrug, then realized he didn't have shoulders. "He'sssss not assss frightening as he wasssss before. He wasssss nice to me in heaven."

"were you..... Were you close to him in heaven?'

"Yesssss, I think sssso."We used to fly together, I rembered that. Do... Do you think he rememberssssss me?"

"I don't know dear, I errr...... suppose you could ask Gabriel. He seems to be on speaking terms with Satan. Though I can't fathom how that came about. "

"Maybe... "Crowley said, quite unwilling to commit himself. While he know longer quite felt the rush of abject terror he once had evety tome he saw Satan, he wasn't quite certain he wanted to ever see him again. If Lucifer didn't remover Heaven there would be no point to talking to him. And if he did, well he had sent Crowley away, for centuries, without so much as an invite back for tea. Obviously Lucifer wanted nothing to do with his former friend. 

The snake demon felt a rumbling beneath him. Aziraphale blushed. 

"Time to feed the angel" Crowley said, quite seriously, because his angel should never go hungry. He begain to transform back to his human corporation entirely forgetting he was still largely in Aziraphale's sweater. 

"Ssssorry? " Crowley tried from where he was smooshed against his angel held captive by a pastel knitted prison. 

His angel just laughted, a deep wonderful belly laugh that shook them both. Crowley closed his eyes and luxuriated in it's warmpth, deciding it was better than all the warm flat sunning rocks in all the world.


	282. Chapter 282

At breakfast, one twin each stood by Madam Tracy and Sargent Shadwell respectivley looking at them with large sad eyes, until they we're invited to sit on their laps. Madam Tracy with an eloquent "Why don't you come here dear, and sit on my lap for breakfast?"

...And Sargent Shadwell with a far less eloquent grunt.

They all proceeded with a breakfast of pancakes, bacon, french toast, eggs, fruit and porridge - excepting Hastur and Ligur, whom they were letting sleep in, as they all thought that the demons more than needed it. This did not disappoint Shadwell in the least. He had absolutely no desire to see the white haired little, who spoke his own grunting language, again. He had no desire to see any little. He was, of course, only humoring the twins so as not to upset Madam Tracy. Though they did make an eager audience for him to tell his perfectly legitimate and very scientific theories too.

After breakfast, he explained to them how the moon landing had been faked by the lizard alien overlords to cover up the fact that the moon did not, in fact, exist at all. The twins sat on the floor in front of him and listened intently, completely enraptured. It was, Shadwell noted, a welcome change from being called a raving loony. Even Madam Tracy and Newt who were more or less willing to listen to his rantings, they never showed this amount of interest.

The tall dark one, (Shadwell had not bothered to remember their names), came over to bend down and check the twins’ diapers, which she proclaimed to be in dire need of changing.

She laid out the changing mat on the sitting room floor, then the first twin on the mat. Edgar (or Ellen) pulled up the short cotton baby doll dress they were wearing, bunching the fabric up below their chin so that Helena could access their diaper without obstruction.

She went about the tasks of cleaning, lotioning powdering, and taping on thick fresh diapers. Then the twins traded places, and Ellen (or Edgar) laid down and pulled up their dress.

Ellen (or Edgar) would have gotten their diaper changed as well, and that would have been that, had not Shadwell happened to glance in that direction.

He had been trying to see what time it was on the little mantle clock that was one the clock that sat on the bookshelf behind the twins and Helena, but his brain registered somthing wrong when he caught a glimpse of the twin lying on the changing mat. It took him some time for his single braincell to work out what it was that he was seeing, and as with the proverbial train wreck, he found he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Meanwhile the other occupants of the room had observed Shadwell's exceptionally creepy staring, and conversation had ceaced. Madam Tracy calmly and gently touched him on the arm.

"Dear, are you quite alright?"

Shadwell turned slowly around to face her, the spark of mania she saw in his eyes quite worrisome.

In one of the gravest tones she had ever heard come out of his mouth, he said to her, "They don't have nipples."

Then he repeated, louder, almost hysterically, “They don't have nipples! "


	283. Chapter 283

"What kind of Abominations are you? " Shadwell demanded. 

Helena frowned at the former witchfinder, not entirely certain she liked her darling twins being called “abominations”. 

"Really, dear... " Madame Tracy tried, but Shadwell was working himself up into quite a lather. He stood in front of where Madam Tracy was sitting with Eddie cuddled up beside her. Attempting, it seemed, to protect them from the rather befuddled mirror wraiths. 

"Really, now, " Aziraphale stood, clutching Crowley close to him, "You know the twins, they’re perfectly nice... "

Shadwell rounded on the angel, "Sheep! They're sheep in wolves clothing!"

Aziraphale furrowed his brow, "I think you might mean wolves in sheep’s clothing, but really... I mean you do know that Crowley is a demon, and you seem to have... err…come to terms with that."

Shadwell squinted his eyes at Aziraphale and, with the utmost seriousness, growled, "Crowley has nipples."

Crowley quickly placed his hands over his chest. He didn't want to know how Shadwell knew that. 

Madam Tracy had learned a lot about Sergeant Shadwell over the years she had known him, bits and bobs of his past that she had pieced together to make a fairly cohesive picture of how the man came to be what he was. The exceptionally unhappy childhood; a drifting, aimless, and rough adolescence; the time in prison, then stumbling quite by accident onto a bit of literature about Witchfinders. Shadwell had quite liked the idea of being a hero, of belonging to something important - of being special, being one of the only people who knew about and could protect the world from the secret threat of witches.

She was rather surprised at how well he'd taken the entire Notpocalypse, and the revelations about angels, demons and witches that had followed. He'd never really said anything about it, though he did sometimes mutter when Anathema came round for tea. Such a drastic shift in the way one viewed the world was bound to have fallout, and Madame Tracy couldn't say that she was terribly surprised the straw that broke the camel's back involved nipples. 

Shadwell had by now devolved into increasingly manic yelling at the twins using words like "atrocities" and "monstrosities", the twins, in turn just looked at him with wide uncomprehending eyes. She heard one whisper to the other "what are nipples?" and she knew she was going to have to stop this. 

She stood. "That's quite enough!" She told him, her voice firm. 

"They're - " Shadwell began thrusting a finger towards the twins, but Madam Tracy didn't let him finish. 

"What they are, is our friends."

"They've tricked us!"

"By doing what? Not telling us the exact numbers of nipples they have? It doesn't matter, dear. How can you look those little darlings in the eyes and tell them how terrible they are - when they have been nothing but kind and accepting of us, for exactly what we are? When you can hardly say the same of most of our own species? And if you can't see that, well... Then I'm not certain than you're welcome back at my home."

"I don't need you, you... you Jezebel! " Shadwell said, but she could see a tinge of hurt in his eyes. 

"Do... Do you not like us anymore? " piped up a curious twin. 

Shadwell looked at the twins, and for a moment, Madam Tracy saw his resolve crack, and she was certain he would grunt out a no, sit back down and let the twins climb back into his lap and they day could continue on. (Madame Tracy had long ago figured out that to have any sort of grasp of what kind of a person Shadwell was, you didn't so much as listen to the never ending stream of vaugely insulting drivel that came out of his mouth, but watched what he chose to do.) 

Then in a blink, it all seems to have finally become too much for the former witchfinder and he turned back to point an accusing finger at Madam Tracy. "I don't need you," he whirled around, brandishing said finger at the from in general, "I don't need any of you! " and with that bit of temper he was off, down the stairs, and out the door - then back in again to retrieve his coat. 

Madam Tracy, watched from the window as he stalked down the streets in a great huff of temper. Aziraphale came up behind her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"He doesn't do well on his own. " she said, her voice sounding the slightest bit watery. 

"I'm sure he just needs time," Aziraphale said though he didn't sound at all certain.


	284. Chapter 284

The devil was having a bad day. He felt crushed under the enormity of the multitude of decisions he constantly had to make, and had snapped at Lilith... Which Lillith did not appreciate in the least, and had let him know quite clearly. 

She was no longer speaking to him, or acknowledging his existence, and when he had attempted to get her down from atop his wine cabinet where she had scurried up to and was napping atop - to apologize, mind you- she had bit him. So, Lucifer had, nursing the now bleeding hand of his corperation, said verbatim "it's no wonder God didn't want you, you haven't got enough bloody sense not to bite the hand that feeds you! "

Now, he found himself sitting on a park bench in London staring at ducks. 

Raphael... Crowley was such a short distance away he could almost feel him. Not that Lucifer intended to do anything with that particular fact. He didn’t need Crowley's inevitable rejection at the moment. He was perfectly content to stew alone in his own misery, which was more than enough presently, thank you very much. He blew out a puff of smoke and watched it drift lazily into the air. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a familiar coat. He turned to look at the human wearing it, and vaugely recognized him as one of the humans that had been at the air base with Crowley and Aziraphale and his so- the Antichrist.

Suddenly, Shadwell felt himself quite compelled to sit next to the well dressed blonde man on the bench. He grumbled as he sat down, Lucifer caught a few words "abnormal" "nipples" and "demons" being a few. This piqued the devil's interest.

"Encountered something... Peculiar, lately have you? " Lucifer said, doing his best to ooze charm. 

Shadwell turned to scrutinize the devil. He leaned close. "Do you know?” he whispered gruffly, though it really wasn't much of a whisper at all. 

"I know..." Lucifer whispered back, though he was enterly uncertain as to what it was that he knew. 

Shadwell squinted at him "How many nipples do you have?""..... Two? " That was the usual number wasn't it?

Shadwell nodded approvingly, and sat back to tell Lucifer all about the the nippleless Little friends of his Jezebel. 

"Mirror wraiths," Lucifer said "they sound like mirror wraiths. They tend not to manifest human features they have never seen or consider pointless, like nipples or genitalia.""How do you get rid of them?"

"Why do you want to? Are they flickering the lights and scratching ominous sayings on to the walls?"

"No... Not that I know of. But they're unnatural creatures! With nary a nipple to be found!" Shadwell added. "They need to be saved from these abominations! Madame Tracy and that white haired Little and that other fellow! " (Crowley and Aziraphale, being what they we're, Shadwell figured could take care of themselves).

Lucifer blew out another plume of smoke and stared at the ember of his cigarette. "They're no more unatural that anything else. For light there is darkness, for above there is below, and for humans there are mirror wraiths..... If you ask me, though I suppose you didn't, they're on the whole much more tolerable than humans. No ambition, mirror wraiths. "

"But... I need to save them,” Shadwell said, and he looked a mixture of frantic, sad, and cross all at the same time. 

Lucifer tapped some ash off the end of his cigarette. It diasapeared before it ever made it to the ground. "I thought that once too. That I needed to save them. " The devil closed his eyes and remembered the sea of gold flecked faces that had gathered before him in Heaven. The faces that now had been rotted and ravaged by the endless decay of Hell. 

"Did you?" Shadwell grunted. 

"Did I what? " asked Lucifer 

"Save them? " 

The Devil laughed humorously. "No, quite the opposite in fact. They would have been much better off without my "help".... Much better off indeed."

Shadwell frowned, because that wasn't the saving people was supposed to go at all. 

"Is it really worth losing everything?" Lucifer said, half to Shadwell and half to himself. 

"Nipples?" Shadwell replied, though the word lacked the usual vigor with which he said it.

"Are those features so very important? More important than what they do? Is that what damns them from the very start? Have they no hope of being judged by their actions and their beliefs alone?" 

Shadwell got the odd feeling that the blonde man wasn't talking about mirror wraiths anymore. Though he couldn't say why. 

Lucifer stood, suddenly, having quite had enough melancholy lamentations and talk about nipples for the time being. He was already pondering what he could bring back to Hell for Lilith to get himself in her good graces once more. 

Shadwell blinked and the man was gone. He rubbed his eyes, but the blonde didn't appear again, and Shadwell was left on a bench in the increasing cold London evening to ponder over the nature of good and evil in relation to the number of nipples one had all on his own.


	285. Chapter 285

"Are you alright, dear? " Madam Tracy asked Eddie, who had just awoken from his nap with a start. 

"Y-Yeah... I'm....uhhh... I'm f-fine. " he said, not looking fine in the least. 

"Are you certain?”

"Yea... I'm I'm just going to get. Tea. Tea. Do you want tea?" 

"I'd love a cup of tea, dear."

Eddie nodded and wiggled out of Jack's grasp. Once he was out of sight, careful not to disturb the two twins and one demon napping on and around her, she picked up an empty bottled and lobed in at the sleeping Jack. 

He opened one eye to stare at her, "Whaaaaa-? "

"Eddie had a nightmare. He's making tea now, when he comes back why don't you take him to give the poor dear a change and a cuddle. Then, if he's feeling back to rights later, maybe you can ask that thing you've been avoiding asking. "

Jack pursed his lips, "Stop making sense, I don't like it when you do that. " He sat up and looked down. At his socks, one of which was orange and purple stripped with a hole in the toe, the other a pepto-bismal pink, "What if ... "

"Dear," Madam Tracy interrupted, not unkindly, "Problems are rarely solved by avoiding them."

Eddie came back out then, with one cup of tea for Madam Tracy, seeming to have forgotten his own. That was all as well though, as Jack proclaimed it was time for a change and gently ushered him away.

Eddie nibbled in his thumb as Jack changed him. He watched Jack's ever smiling face he happily dumped too much baby powder on his groin. "Can I change you next? " he asked tentatively. 

"Of course, baby! " Jack beamed at him, and pressed kisses to his tummy, "Anytime you want."

After his diaper was changed, he and Jack changed places and Eddie set about changing Jack. He liked the soothing ritual of it. He liked being able to take care of Jack even as Jack was also taking care of him. Eddie knew that wasn't right, that even as a switch he shouldn't want to take care of others while he was feeling little. It should be one or the other. Nevertheless, he felt very lucky to have Jack, who seemed happy to indulge Eddie's peculiar wants and needs. 

He taped the diaper up over Jack's smooth powdered crotch. He kind of wanted to press soft kisses to Jack's thin tummy, like Jack had for him, but he didn't feel quite brave enough. 

When he was finished, Jack pulled Eddie down on top of him and cuddled him, wrapping his long arms around the human and kissing his face.

"Eddie..." Jack nuzzled his nose into Eddie's hair. "Gregor told me that... Well… that you don't like him very much... Mommy isn't mad, baby... It's okay if you and my.... If you and Gregor don't get on... I was just wondering why?"

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip, toying with his snake bites. "He... He just kind of frightens me....and I don't think he likes me very much...or being around me - I'm sorry! "

"Oh, is that all! " Jack hugged his baby and sighed in relief. That was an easily remedied problem. All he had to do was make certain they spent more time together. Then, obviously, they would come to love each other just as much as Jack loved both of them. 

"Oh." Jack said, remembering something he'd forgotten. "Madam Tracy said you had a nightmare! Are you alright, baby?"

"Yeah... It was just a bad dream. About... About the twin's ‘Mama’."

"Oh... " Jack snorted, "I can see why you'd have bad dreams about her. But she's gone and you're here, and Mommy is never going to let her get you."

Eddied snuggled down into Jack's embrace. He slipped his thumb into his mouth. He could feel the soft bulk of the fresh diaper between his legs and Jack's arms, which were neither warm nor cold, around him. He could smell the comforting smell of baby powder coming from both of them. Here, now, in his mommy's arms he felt that nothing bad could touch him, "…I know, Mommy…I know. " And with that, he let his eyes slip closed.


	286. Chapter 286

Madam Tracy stared out the window, wringing her colorful scarf between her hands. 

"Do you think he will return?"

Madam Tracy turned to see Helena standing behind her. 

"I'm.. honestly not certain. Oh, he's a stubborn, daft, old fool!"

"And yet you want him to return."

"Yes, I do. " A small smile crept over Madam Tracy's face, "He's my stubborn, daft, old fool. He just...needs to think he's doing the "right thing".”

"It is an affliction that is common among your kind, I think."

Madam Tracy gave a sudden snorting laugh, "You don't seem very bothered by what he said to you and those dear little twins - about you being abominations and all."

Helena shrugged her thin shoulders, "We are what we are. Whatever words you use to describe us does not change that. You are very strange to us in many ways, as we are strange to you. I think your kind has more to fear from the unknown than us....you are so very fragile. Little souls trapped in frail forms. One fall, one illness, and your soul flies off - Poof! " She said stretching out one slender hand to emphasize the 'poof!' "He may simply need time... To adjust. Humans always need more time even though you have so very little of it." She nodded sagely. 

Madam Tracy turned back to the window, watching as darkness slowly crept over London, "I do hope he's alright. Out on the streets... alone... at night...He's never been very good at taking care of himself."

Helena came up close behind her, towering over Madam Tracy, and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I hope he returns as well. "

Madam Tracy raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to look up at Helena, who shrugged once more, "The twins like him."

"He likes the twins as well - not that he would ever tell, soft, sappy old fool." She began to ring her scarf in her hands once more. 

"Will you stay up and wait for him? "

Madame Tracy nodded. 

'Then I will stay up with you, I think.... If you do not mind"

"Thank you," said Madam Tracy quietly, her eyes never stopping their search for a familiar old man in a worn coat.


	287. Chapter 287

Crowley was in a garden. It wasn't Eden - it was far too bright and clean to be anything on Earth - he recognized it as the Garden that had once been in Heaven. 

"Raphael!" Someone called out and he followed the voice, because this was a dream, and what else was he supposed to do? 

He came into a clearing and saw Gabriel to his left, and there stabbing beside the archangel was someone who glowed like the sun. It almost hurt Crowley's eyes…but in sort of a good way. He was radiant and resplendent… and all the other words that meant beautiful. 

"Come on, if you're coming," Gabriel whined, "Let's fly!"

Gabriel and the glowing angel ascended into the sky. 

Crowley made to follow, stretching out his wings in preparation to fly. 

"Are you really following them again?"

He turned to see two other angels behind him. He squinted at them trying to make out any facial features, the color of their eyes or hair or skin, but it was all an indistinguishable blur. The more he tried to focus the more his head hurt, so he simply stopped trying. 

"You're always following around Samael and Gabriel."

"They're my friends," Crowley answered without thought. 

"Really? " said one. Crowley couldn't actually see it, but he felt somehow that they were raising their eyebrow at him. 

The other angel was far less kind, "You're bothering them, stupid. They're not your friends they just tolerate you because you're always trailing after them. You don't think they really want you around? Don't you understand?"

"Maybe it’s because you haven’t been here for very long. You were up amongst the stars for so much time, you don't know how things work here." 

Crowley could tell the angel was attempting to be kind, bit somehow it didn't feel like kindness. He pulled his wings around him, and his thumb itched for him to stick it in his mouth and have it heavy and comforting on his tongue.

"Maybe....," he mumbled

He didn't get to hear what they said next because he was falling, and the bright angel was falling next to him in a great blinding mass of smoldering feathers. 

Crowley's vision went black as he hit the ground. When his eyes fluttered open he saw Samael. His feathers were blackened and little plumes of smoke were rising from the charred mess. 

The wings moved back to reveal Samael and Crowley scurried backwards. The archangel was no longer the beautiful creature of heaven his entire form liked painful and burnt. His skin was reddened and cracked, blackened in some places. It looked... Excruciating. 

His hair, which had once been long and luscious, shimmering beautifully in the sun, was gone. Likewise, his once sparking eyes were now black pits that shown with anger and despair. Lucifer turned his face up and looked right at Crowley. "Raphael -," he moaned and reached out a mangled, clawed hand. 

Crowley scurried back and cowered away. He curled himself into a ball and stuck his thumb into his mouth, rocking back and forth. 

Crowley woke up with a start. He sat up and looked around to make certain everything was alright. After finding the paci that he had lost amongst the covers and plushies, he laid back down, resting his head on the slight swell of his angel's tummy. He distracted himself from the lingering unpleasantness his dream had left him with by thinking on his favorite subject, which was, surprising to no one, his angel. 

He nuzzled his nose into Aziraphale's sweater. The angel was perfect for cuddling, all soft and rounded edges, a physical manifestation of his love of all things edible. Though, as Crowley had noted once, he always maintained a sort of balance. Savoring everything he ate for a ridiculous amount of time, and never letting his corporation expand beyond the boundaries of his favorite waistcoat. "Gluttony in moderation" the demon had once jokingly called it. Aziraphale had been quite put out with being called a glutton, (even a moderate one), and wouldn't speak to Crowley until he offered to buy him dinner. 

Crowley sighed and slithered into a new position. He wiggled around, feeling his wet diaper cupping his bottom and the softness of the angel bear he was clutching, as he listened to the soft breathing of his angel. 

He felt disquieted by his dream, which felt less like a dream than a memory. He supposed it was, bits of his memories of heaven returning. He wondered why they were returning now, when they when all he wanted to do was get away from Heaven and Hell. 

Crowley sighed behind his pacifier and hugged his teddy tighter. 

Lucifer had been so very beautiful then, and his eyes had been kind when he stared at him. Maybe Crowley could see him again. Maybe they could... Oh, he didn't know... Go for a picnic in the park? Maybe invite Gabriel as well. Were Lucifer and Gabriel friends again? They had come to the bookshop together. Gabriel would probably bring Beelzebub - though Crowley wasn't sure why. (Surely, they were natural enemies?) And Lucifer would definitely be bringing Lilith…but that would be alright, because he was definitely bringing Aziraphale. 

Then Crowley laughed, because he was thinking about asking the devil to go on a picnic of all things. He had obviously gone quite mad. Satan would laugh - if not spit - in his face if he asked him to a day in the park. The devil definitely didn't want to spend time with him.... He never had... 

There was a teeny part of Crowley's brain that was saying something about how pleased Samael had looked to see him in heaven, how Satan reached out to him the first thing after they had fallen, but Crowley took no notice as he drifted off to sleep in to comforting embrace of his angel.


	288. Chapter 288

There was an empty spot at breakfast that morning, just as there had been at lunch and dinner the previous day. Madam Tracy kept sneaking furtive glances at it when she thought no one was looking. She smiled, but even Crowley, with the half a brain cell he shared with Aziraphale, could tell she was sad...and he didn't like it. He leaned over from his perch in Aziraphale's lap to place his head on her shoulder. 

She petted his hair, "Oh darling, it's alright." Crowley frowned - he was supposed to be comforting her and not the other way around. 

Breakfast was mostly silent barring the scraping of utensils on plates. Crowley ate his eggs with his hands - because he could, thank you - the yolk running down his chin. He fussed and turned away from the damp tartan cloth proclaiming that "that's a perfectly good waste of egg angel! " and lapped it off his chin with a long, forked tongue. After which Aziraphale assaulted his face with the cloth anyway, because he was, after all, a bit of a bastard. But... It made Madam Tracy laugh. 

After breakfast, she goes with Aziraphale to check on the still sleeping Hastur and Ligur, having found herself rather invested in the plight of the two demons since being inhabited by one of them. Crowley plays with Eddie and the twins. Jack is sprawled out on the sofa watching an autopsy and occasionally muttering things like "so that's where that goes! " Helena is mixing something that smells like rot and flowers in a pot on the kitchen stove (Crowley thinks, or at least hopes, she isn't cooking lunch). Gregor has disappeared once more, which is not at all unusual these days, and makes Jack frown at his retreating back - how can he make Eddie and Gregor spend time together if Gregor is always leaving? 

There is a tension in the air, even as they all go about their usual activities. It feels like they're waiting for something, and Crowley doesn't like it. 

He gets scooped up off the floor for a diaper change, even though he hadn't realized he had wet. He pouted and found his gaze drifting to the staircase. 

After lunch, Aziraphale asks Madam Tracy to help him reorganize the Romance (big R) section in the sitting room and she can see through the angel's thin ploy to try and occupy her mind with something other than Shadwell, but she smiles over her tea cup and says "yes" anyway.

The twins try to help... and don't end up helping... at all. They also don't understand why the books in the bookshop don't have the little wriggly things in them. Aziraphale pointedly doesn't ask what the "little wriggly things" are, though he rather suspects they aren’t bookworms. Helena eventually ushers them away so she can change them and Aziraphale and Madame Tracy can finish. 

At supper Madam Tracy stands up and announces that she will be going home tomorrow. Apparently, she was quite done waiting for daft old witchfinders to realize exactly how daft they were and come home to her. Though she still glances out the window when she thinks no one is looking. 

The twins cuddle against her, both insisting that she feed them their bottles. One patiently waiting for her to finish with the other. It's not just the twin's heads that turn in unison when they all here the quiet jingle of the shop bell. 

Shadwell walks in and sits in an empty chair, scowling at the pale pink floral throw pillow in it before he does. 

Madam Tracy is the first to speak, "So, you're back then?" 

"Aye." 

"And?...... " She says, because as glad as she is that he's back in one piece (even if he does look rather worse for the wear) she needs to know that he can be here with her and all of this. That he's alright with it. Because she's not giving it up. She'd never given anything up for the sake of a man and she has no intention to start now. 

"I have come to a conclusion."

"Have you?"

"Aye, that's what I bloody said woman, do listen." 

"Do tell", she says and Shadwell huffs.

He puffs up, before delivering his great revelation, "I have come to the conclusion that, philosophically, morally, ubiquitously-” (Shadwell did not in fact know what ubiquitously meant, though he mercifully managed to use it an way that was almost right quite on accident) – “mellifluously,” - (Shadwell was not quite so lucky with this one) - “no nipples is far superior to too many nipples."

Madam Tracy took a moment to puzzle out what exactly Shadwell had just said. "So, you mean... That if they had to may nipples it would be bad... "

"Terrible! awful! evil! "

"But since they have no nipples, they're .... alright? "

"Aye! The proper number of nipples is preferable, of course." Shadwell sniffed, "But this is acceptable."

Madam Tracy blinked. Then she gently nudged the twin that wasn't sitting on her lap over to Shadwell. 

Edgar (or Ellen) held out their bottle to Shadwell and turned their big coal lined eyes (Eddie had thought them how to apply eyeliner) and looked at him expectantly. 

Madame Tracy held her breath. 

Shadwell shifted in his seat and stared at the Little mirror wraith, looking rather uncomfortable. Then something about him seemed to soften, and he grumbled, but he patted his knee and Ellen (or Edgar) happily scurried up and settled themselves on his lap. They cuddled up to the witchfinder, who with great and painstaking effort placed the bottle in their mouth. They begin to nurse the bottle and slowly, slowly Shadwell begin to relax...and Madame Tracy let out the breath she'd been holding…and smiled.


	289. Chapter 289

Ligur awoke with a start, grasping the hand that had been reaching out for his little toad. He held the wrist and squeezed, threatening without words. 

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, I was just checking on you two... Oh, but I am happy you're awake! Madam Tracy and Sargent Shadwell are going home today and I thought that Hastur may like to say goodbye... They did seem to get on. "

Ligur let Aziraphale's wrist go. An angel had been freely coming and going while he had been lying here for Satan knows long. He visibly shuddered and drew Hastur closer to him. 

"Oh dear, I am sorry to be standing over you like this. I just was pulling up the blanket over you and Hastur.... I also put some tea on the nightstand there for you and a bottle for Hastur. "

Aziraphale half reached out a hand (intending to pat Ligur's knee comfortingly) then aborted the motion. The angel gave a uncertain smile, then left with a "do come out when you’re ready.... Or if you want to, dears."

Ligur stared with suspicion at the pot of tea, still steaming (because Aziraphale expected it to be perfectly hot for Ligur when he woke up), beside it there was a delicate floral tea cup atop its saucer and a silver spoon alongside it, next to these were a mismatched creamer and sugar bowl. A yellow bottle adorned with a large green frog sat adjacent to the tea pot. 

Hastur wiggled and grunted to get his daddy's attention. There was a perfectly good bottle right there and he wanted it and Ligur wasn't giving it to him. Ligur just looked down at him blankly and still didn't give Hastur his bottle. Frustrated, he just reached out and took it himself and popped it in his mouth and begin sucking. 

For a moment Ligur looked alarmed, but then Hastur laid back down and snuggled into his chest, still nursing his bottle, and Ligur seemed to relax. He pet his little toad's hair and poured himself a cup of tea. He hesitated, but eventually took a tentative sip. It was dark and heady and didn't burn the inside of his mouth. 

After they finished, Ligur picked up Hastur to get him changed, but he found his diaper dry, and wondered if the angel had taken care of that too. 

He carried his little toad out to the sitting room. They sat down next to a couple humans, (both with mirror wraiths curled up on their laps) one of which Ligur assumed must be Sergeant Shadwell. 

Hastur and Shadwell stared at each other. Shadwell grunted, then Hastur grunted, then Shadwell grunted, then Hastur grunted, then they both seemed to come to some sort of agreement and Shadwell reached over to ruffle Hastur's hair. Hastur grunted and made a face, but he allowed this strange human to touch him, and Ligur was absolutely in awe. 

For the rest of the day Ligur did exactly what he did best: He silently watched. 

He watched how Aziraphale fussed over everyone at breakfast, making certain that he had coffee and Hastur had another bottle as they didn't eat. After breakfast Hastur seemed to both want down to play with the other Littles and stay with him. The creepy little twins seemed to notice this, and simply moved their dolls and toys over so that Hastur could sit on the floor and hang on to his leg and still play. 

The little blonde human at one point got up and retrieved sippy cups for everyone, handing Hastur one as well. Hastur didn't speak much, but he interacted with the others. Even if that interaction mainly consisted of throwing the soft pastel colored blocks that they gave him at the other Littles. 

When the humans left, Shadwell and Hastur grunted an oddly affected goodbye at each other, and Hastur seemed legitimately sad to see the...odd... human go. 

After many tearful "goodbyes" promises to "visit soon" the angel blotted his eyes with a tartan handkerchief, then turned to suggest that Hastur might like a bath, and oh! He had ordered some new bath toys that Hastur might like: They were darling little frogs that glowed lovely colors when you placed them in the water (Crowley had loudly groaned and accused his angel of being an online shopping addict upon finding out about this new purchase). 

So, Ligur found himself undressing his little toad in a bathroom that even he considered to be "old fashioned". He removed Hastur's soaking diaper and placed his naked toad in the bath. Hastur immediately sunk down in the water, and Ligur kneeled by the tub to run a hand through his baby's hair. 

He had thought a great deal about how his little toad had been treated here. He had pictured Hastur being largely ignored, left to his own devices, and checked upon for the occasional diaper change or feeding. (Ligur would have never pictured his little toad interacting with other littles without someone holding a bucket of holy water over his head). He had worried about Hastur being punished for being ill tempered and demanding and contrary and peeing on every single thing there was to pee on - and those were, in Ligur's mind, the absolute best-case scenarios. 

It was, Ligur had reasoned, better, safer that leaving him alone in Hell where he would languish and receive no care at all. But the demon had still left his little Hastur with an angel, (even if it was an angel with his own little demon), and angels weren't by nature particularly kind to demons. Especially demons who had done unpleasant things to them and their own. 

He watched Hastur play with his new bath frogs: the way each plastic amphibian lit up, casting soft cascades of color onto the bathwater.

"My Little toad," Ligur began, " Did you... Do you like it here?"

Hastur paused, plastic frog in hand. He sucked on his pacifier (frog themed obviously) and scrunched up his face in thought. Eventually he grunted out a "yes" and went immediately back to his plastic frogs. 

It had been one of the least informative answers that Ligur had ever been given, and yet, he felt a great weight lifted off his shoulder switch that one simple word. He hadn't done wrong by his little toad after all. He hadn't left him in the care of those that would thoughtlessly harm him more that he had already been so carelessly in his life. 

The demon hung his head, and took a deep breath, surprised when he felt a quick kiss placed on his forehead. He looked back up to see his little toad jamming his paci back into his mouth and looking straight ahead as if he had done nothing. 

Ligur gathered Hastur close to him and squeezed, burying his face in white hair, rocking back and forth, taking no mind of the wetness seeping onto his shirt, and together they stayed like that for a very long time.


	290. Chapter 290

"What kind of angel are you? " Ligur asks one day, Hastur happily asleep in his arms after successfully peeing all over him during a diaper change…it comes out more like an accusation than Ligur intends. 

Aziraphale, sitting on the other sofa with a sleeping Crowley fluffs himself up like an irate owl. "A principality," he sniffs. 

"That's not what I meant," Ligur says, less accusatory this time, "You are unlike any angel I've encountered before."

Aziraphale, still feeling a bit defensive, sniffs again, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"You have a demon as a Little," Ligur says bluntly, "You associate yourself with mirror wraiths, and care for a small human.... You made certain my naughty Little toad was looked after.... Not to mention you’re a glutton….I can think of no other angel that would lower themselves so....”

"I am not, "Aziraphale said with great emphasis,"lowering myself. Crowley and the mirror wraiths, Eddie, Madame Tracy, yourself and Hastur - and even Sargent Shadwell are in no way beneath me. You all are perfectly lovely creatures in your own right. And to tell the truth.... I rather do prefer you to quite a few angels I know. "

"And that is precisely why you're so extraordinary. "

"I'm hardly extraordinary," the angel said, a bit of pink tinging his cheeks,"I'm not the only angel these days that has seen the value of demonic company. Gabriel seems to have erm... ‘cultivated’ quite the.... Ah....friendship? relationship?... with Beelzebub."

"Yes," said Ligur flatly, "Their relationship confuses and frightens me."

"They're not....? " here the angel made a series of elaborate and confusing hand gestures that only made Ligur look at him curiously.

"Oh, never mind." The angel huffed. "..... And I am not a glutton."

Ligur raised an eyebrow. Pointedly looking at the jam tart the angel had in his hand.

"I simply adapted to my human surrounding and find the consumption of edible substances pleasurable within moderation. " Aziraphale turned his pert little nose up in the air and finished his jam tart, licking his fingers quite deliberately afterwards. 

The angel shifted Crowley on his lap and patted his diapered bottom, feeling that his dear Little demon would need to be changed soon. After doing a bit more fussing, tucking Crowley's starry blanket around him and brushing his hair out of his face, Aziraphale looked up to see Ligur staring reverently down at his own demon. 

Ligur noticed his staring and looked up at the angel, "He's so quiet now. I expected him to be angry and raging at - " Ligur gestured a hand in the general vicinity, "- all of this. I've never seen him so small... Or so.... content before."

"If he's anything like Crowley, which I rather think he is, he just needed to let go and be completely Little. After they stop fighting it so terribly hard all the time, poor dears, they settle in quite nicely. Crowley has never seemed so relaxed as he is now. It's a wonder to see them grow to be content and well taken care of and comfortable. "

"I can only hope that I can do for Hastur what you have done for Crowley."

"Oh, dear, you've done so wonderfully already, and it's quite obvious to everyone that Hastur adores his Daddy. And... If you ever need anything, dear, I'm quite happy to help, so long as Crowley is agreeable of course.... And I'm sure that Gregor would love to as well...in fact... Now that I mention it, I'm rather surprised that he hasn't been around lately. He and Hastur practically spent every moment together since Hastur came to us... They were white close. "

'Maybe he doesn't care for me? " Ligur postulated. 

"Don't be silly, dear, he hardly knows you. I'm sure he's just catching up on a few things. (Aziraphale, it should be noted, had no idea what these "things" could possibly be, but well, most of what the mirror wraiths did was largely a mystery to the angel). “I'm certain that you two will be the best of friends, " the angel beamed at him. 

Ligur hummed in agreement,but wasn't entirely certain that he really wanted the mirror wraiths back in Hastur's life, as grateful as Ligur was to him. He didn’t like how attached everyone said this Gregor had grown to his Little toad. Hastur was after all just that : HIS Little toad, and he was Hastur's daddy. Since he had been all but fired from Hell he saw no reason to ever again add a third party to that equation.


	291. Chapter 291

"You alwayssssssss get Eddie." Crowley whined at the twins, flopping dramaticaly across the floor. "I want him tonight."

The twins looked at each other and shrugged in unison. "Suits us" one said. "Gives us more time to work on our special project" 

Crowley wondered what this "special project" could be, thought of a few possibilities and shuddered. 

He slipped his arms around his special human friend and squeezed. Youre sssssleeeping with. me and angel tonight..... If youwant to, of courssssse."

"Yea, totally" Eddie replied blushing. 

Crowley slithered around so that he was sitting in Eddie's lap and half draped over him. He nizzeled ingot the humans neck and flicked out his tounge, making Eddie giggle. 

Aziraphale it seemed, was more than alright with it as well. Eddie wasn't nearly as frightened of the fussy angel these days, and that night decided that he was going g to let Aziraphale change his diaper before bed of the angel asked. 

He did, and the angel seemed terribly pleased, like Eddie had given him some great privilege. He was tucked into bed between Aziraphale and Crowley sucking on his pacifier and clutching his stuffed panda. He felt the soft warmth of Aziraphale and the cooler, weight of Crowley wrapped around him. He closed his eyes and begain to dream. 

He'd always had unpleasant dreams, usually they were bizarre allegorical disjointed stories related to whatever he happened to be wording about in that particular time in his life. He'd dreamed about his father hunting him down like a deer. About summoning a demon who was actually his former employer Nathaniel. He'd dreamed about being lost. Of wandering the endless halls of the mirror world in nothing but a wet diaper and when ever he found a familiar mirror wraith they turned their backs at him and stared at the wall. Not responding to him even when he screamed and cried and shook them. 

From all these dreams Eddie woke up, felt disquited for a while, then the dream faded from his conscious mind, replaced by the mirad of other things he had to worry about. 

Lately, however, his dreams had felt different. They were all about the twin's Mama, which wasn't all that surprising. She was, after all, completely and utterly terrifying. He used to wake up with a start from them, almost entirely certain that Mama was lurking around, salivating at the thought of taking some sort of gruesome revenge on him. But slowly he became more.... Comfortable.... with the dreams.

Sometimes in his dreams he became Mama. Floating down the halls of the mirror world, or hovering over the twin's crib, watching them sleep. He saw his long knobby fingers reach out stoke a twin's hair. He saw a refection of his featureless face in the cracked mirror hanging in the hallway wall. And.... It didn't bother him. 

He didn't know why it was happening, but then again he didn't know why alot of things where happening in his life these days. After all he was currently being cuddled between a real live angel and demon. So he just relaxed and let the weird Mama-centric dreams happen. They were after all just dreams, what harm could they do?


	292. Chapter 292

Ligur woke up to someone walking outside his room. At first he thought it might be Aziraphale coming to check on them, but the footsteps seems to light to be the angel's. So he very quietly got out of bed, sliping the hell forged knife he kept under his pilloow into his hand and gathered up Hastur onto his hip. He moved quietly towards the door.

The footsteps we're very faint now, and Ligur suspected that they had turned into the sitting room. He very slowly opened his door and peered out. The hall. was clear, so he snuck and padded quietly down it. Haatur briefly woke up and groggily rubbed his eyes. He grunted behind his pacifier in a way that meant "What's happing? Why did you wake me up you utter bastard? "

Ligur gently shushed him. "You need to be quite." He whispered, and Hastur, who had more that a modicum of sled preservation, quieted immediately. 

Ligur snuck poked his head around the corner, willing himself to blend in with the wall behind him. In the sitting room, crouched by the playtent, examining one of the twin's dolls was the Little human, Ligur couldn't rembered his name. He sniffed at the doll and then threw it carelessy on to a pile of blankets. (Ligur could have sworn he saw the doll flinch as it landed. ") He picked up an overaized plaid shirt that one of the twins had left there and brought it up to his nose to begin sniffing at it. 

Ligur found this odd on an instinctual level... But then again he hadn't spent much time with humans. Maybe this behavior was perfectly normal for them, though some how he doubted it. 

He looked back to the human observing him rooting through the items in the playtent for a while longer. Then something caught his eye in the corner of the room behind the the blonde human. He stared harder, and could vaugley make out a faceless floating form. 

The thing begain to solidify and take on features and Ligur recognized it as the mirror wraith Gregor, the one Aziraphale had told him had largely looked after Hastur while he'd been.... indisposed. 

The human turned his head sharply to look at the newly cooperated mirror wraith, gave an odd stiffled growl and subsequently collapsed on the floor in a heap. 

Hastur grunted and violently thrashed in Ligur's arms. Getting himself freed of his daddy's hold (and managing to kick Ligur in the process) he ran over to Eddie, staring down at the little, rather unsure of what he should do next. He squatted down, and made to poke the lump of human on the floor, but Gregor gently grabbed his hand and stopped him. 

"He is alright" the mirror wraith rumbled "he is only sleeping now. "Gregor reached out to ruffle Hastur's hair. "I will take him back to bed." 

Gregor gently picked up Eddie, who remained asleep, his head flopping on to Gregor's shoulder. 

Hastur grunted and nodded, staring a Gregor's retreating back. 

"Why don't we go back to bed, my Little Toad? "

"No" Hastur grunted and crossed his arms glaring up at Ligur. 

Ligur didn't sigh..... But the desirer was there. And it was strong. 

"Would you like to sit in the sofa then, and wait for the mirror wraith to return."

Hastur grunted "yes" and held up his arms to be picked up. It gave Ligur pause, it wasn't so long ago when every time he tried to pick up Hastur he was met with much resistance. Usually in the form of swearing, kicking, and gratuitious peeing. 

They sat in the sofa waiting for Gregor's return. Ligur watched Hastur worriedly glance at the hallway he and the Little human had disappeared down, and then something clicked in Ligur's brain. Hastur cared about these creatures. He highly doubted the demon would ever admit it upon pain of death via holy water. But it was clear from the way that he interacted with them, rushing to the human and letting the mirror wraith tousle his hair, that Hastur did indeed have some measure of affection for them. 

Ligur hadn't thought it possible. He knew of course that Hastur lived him in his own peculiar way, but that love had taken time and patience to cultivate. Many times Ligur wondered if it hwas even possible for Hastur to care for and let him self be cared for by another. He had been so ill treated from the very beginning, Ligur often suspected that Hastur simply might forever lack whatever it was that was that made one feel any connection to another, for all his existence no one had cared for Hastur, so as a consequence, Hastur cared for no one. 

Yet.... Here his grumpy Little toad was, wording of the fate of some small human who's name Ligur couldn't even be bothered to remember. Hastur was changing. Or maybe this is how he'd always been, but hidden away behind layers of self protective violent tendencies and swearing, and the occasional bit of angry arson. 

Ligur held his Little Toad closer, he'd worried so much over how leaving him would damage him. Never once thinking that he would return to a Hastur who was happier and more comfortable than he had ever seen him. And Ligur was suddenly awash in another wave gratitude for the angel and his motly assortment of friends. 

He kissed Hastur on the temple and bounced him up and down slightly, "Don't fret, it will all be well."he told his little toad, and for the first time in he didn't feel like a liar as he said it.


	293. Chapter 293

Gregory came and sat down on an arm chair. In Ligur's arms Hastur fussed, Grunting and wiggling and making motions that Gregor's should come closer. 

Ligur raised an eyebrow. He definitely didn't like his little toad reaching out so desperately to someone that wasn't him.... But he also didn't like to deny his little toad anything he could possibly get him to make him just the littlest bit happier. So with a tone that couldn't be more resigned if he had tried, he looked up to Gregor. "It think he wants you to sit down with us. "

Hastur grunted in response seemily happy his tyrannical demands were now being met. 

Gregor hesitated, he looked at the obviously disapproving Ligur, then to Hastur.... And he sat down. Hastur immediately wiggled so he was half on Ligur's lap and half on Gregor's. Sprawled over them both, trapping their legs under his weight so neither entity could get away from him. 

Gregor's hummed, a low deep sound that vibrated the sofa. He begain to stroke that nice place at he back of Hastur's neck, and the toad grunted happily, closing his eyes. 

A lamp flickered on casting a dim orangish yellow glow over the room. Ligur had meant to ask about the Little human, but what came put of his mouth was "what the fuck are you wearing?"

Gregor looked down at the chunky ill fitting knitted sweater he was wearing and smiled. It was hideous, a pale pink mixed with a sickly orange and a greenish brown tinged with yellow that reminded Ligur a great deal of vomit. Only one sleeve seemed to fit the mirror wraith, while the other one was seemed far to loon and was shrumched up, so as to cover Gregor's hand. There were also a great number of holds in the knit that Ligur wasn't certain that should be there. 

"Dear Jack finally finished it. I was the only one it would fit."

Ligur rather thought that the word "fit" was being used rather loosely, but he just shook head ans let them both lapse into silence. 

"So," the demon begain, "was that normal human behavior? The growling and the sniffing and the collapsing?"

"Not terribly," Gregor said, giving Hastur a good scritch at the nape of his neck. "I believe what is happening with Eddie is a phenomena known as sleep walking.... It is unusual, but not unheard of in humans. I've been recording his activities, "Gregor produced a small book leather bound book from somwhere in his ugly sweater. "According to most of the books I have read in the subject it will probably ceace on it's own.... Never the less, I thought it best to watch over him, during theses episodes. "

"Is it potentially dangerous?" Though what Ligur really meant to ask was "is it potentially dangous to Hastur or I? " because as much as he was coming to like the inhabitants of the bookshop, Hastur would always be the foremost concern to Ligur. 

"The books say it's unlikely. And all that I've observed Eddie do when he's sleepwalking is exploring his surroundings and watching the twins sleep. "

Ligur hummed noncommitaly. Then he felt a very, very familiar warmth spreading across his lap. 

"He's peed on you hasn't he?" Gregor said, and Ligur could swear he saw the ghost of a smile on the bastard's face. 

"Yes." Ligur miracled the toad pee away. 

"I found... " said Gregor hesitantly, quite unsure whether he was overstepping. "That a disposal with a cloth diaper over it was best for when he slept, especially when he slept on his belly. He's uncomfortable if you put him in two disposals."  
zz  
Ligur hummed again. He really wished that Gewgor hadn't said that, because it was hard to resent someone that cared about his naughty little toad's comfort. Prior to this whole ordeal, he could have counted the number of entities that had ever concerned themselves with Hastur's comfort on one finger. ... And that entity was Ligur. 

"I suppose... I should thank you for looking after Hastur so well, while I was.... Away. I'm sure he was a great deal of trouble for you. "

"Not particularly, I quite enjoyed my time caring for him."

"You did?..... " and Ligir sounded more than a little suspicious. "You..... didn't mind the tantrums and the peeing? "

"No... "Gregor looked down at Hastur, who had fallen asleep and was now drooling onto Gregor's lap. "I... Have read a great number of books, I know a great number of words..... And yet..... And yet, I find it unbelievably hard to find the right words to communicate anything or to understand all the hidden nuances in what others say to me. Hastur doesn't use words, he just fusses or piddles all over until you find whatever is wrong and fix it. And what he wants is usually quite simple. A bath, or a dialer change or a bottle, or a cuddle. I can give him all those things and then he is content again, and I am content for having provided them for him."

Ligur looked from the mirror wraith down to his little toad. "I see. " he said quietly and the two of them stayed seated on the sofa, Hastur draped across them, until the first pale rays of sunlight seeped through the curtains.


	294. Chapter 294

Crowley sleepily stretched, luxurating in the warmpth radiating off his angel and his Eddie. He was having a rather nice wee in his diaper, warming the cool wet padding. He was cuddling his starry bear plushie, and had his paci firmly planted in his mouth. He could hear the drum of a spring rain on the roof of the bookshop roof. He could think of nothing g better than to be here, all comfy and warm and tucked into bed with his angel and his friend. 

He definitely wasn't singing a little song in his head that went "happy snakey, sleepy snakey, happy snakey, sleepy snakey" because that would be decidly un-cool. 

He thought about the cozy day ahead. He contemplated what he would dress his angel in today. He'd started helping his angel dressin KOg in the morning, picking out his clothes and doing up fussy little buttons and tying tartan bow ties. He loved the intimacy, and the new way to take care of his angel. He had just the sweater in mind today, a lovely pale pink one and a cream collared shirt and cream tartan bow tie, with little hints of pink and baby blue. 

He was definitely going to wear his sweater today (formerly Aziraphale's) and maybe his glittery black leggings. He wondered if Eddie would let him pick out his outfit who. Crowley rather thought he would, after all he did had impeccable taste in fashion. 

He listened to the comforting patter of the rain. Someone should definitely make cocoa today. He wondered if they should start a fire in the fireplace. He was a bit picky about fire in the bookshop these days bit he didn't mind it so much when it was nicely confined in a fireplace. 

He yawned, all that could wait he thought, for him to have a few more hours of sleep. He slithered over onto his belly, flopping obe gangly arm over Eddie to cuddle him and all his lovey human warmpth closer. 

His arm came into contact with something wet. His first thought was that Eddie's diaper had leaked, bit that wasn't quite right, though Crowley's sleepy little braincell couldn't quite puzzle out why. 

He opened his eyes and choked. "Nnnnggk! " He stared at the bright red that was staining the blankets and smeared across Eddie's face. 

"PAPA! " he screamed.


	295. Chapter 295

Eddie woke up to screaming not for the first time in his life. He couldn't say it was his favorite way to wake up. 

Aziraphale was leaning over him, "oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. " the angel was muttering. He heard Crowley wail somewhere in the background and he Eddie wondered why the angel wasn't going to comfort him. 

He made to get up, because if Aziraphale wasn't going to go and see of Crowley was alright, he would. As soon as he was upright, his head begain to pound and spin and he felt like he was going to hurl and there was a weird coppery taste in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Oh my dear boy no! Will you let me fix it dear? " 

Eddie nodded, which was a mistake, because it made his head hurt worse. He felt hands running through his hair and and over his nose, leaving a soothing coolness in their wake. Then a kiss was gently placed on his forehead, and all the pain melted away. He opened his eyes, and spied Crowley peering at him looking terrified "Are you alright?" He asked the demon. 

"Nnnnggk! Am I alright? " Crowley sputtered. "Am I aLrIgHt!? "

"That is what I asked." Eddie deadpanned. 

"Nnnuugggh! I should be asking if YOU are alright!"

Eddie had absolutely no idea what the overdramatic demon meant, until said overdramatic demon gestured a hand at Eddie. Flapping it up and down to indicate his entire body. He looked down to where the demon was gesturing and saw the bloody sheets. It took him a good minute to realize that the blood most likely was HIS blood. He traced the stain from his lap up his chest and to his face. 

"You, ah.... Appear to have had a rather nasty little nose bleed my dear."

"Oh... " Eddie stared down at the bloody blankets he was covered in. "I'm sorry... I ruined your sheets. " and they were nice sheets too thought Eddie glumly. Probably a billion thread count Egyptian cotton given to Aziraphale by the pharaoh of ancient Egypt or something. 

"No, no, dear boy!" Eddie blinked and the blood was gone, and his face felt significantly cleaner. 

"See? " the angel said, running a comforting hand through Eddie's hair. "It all alright. How about we take you to your Mommy?"

Eddie nodded and let Aziraphale pick him up. Crowley scrabbled around the bed collecting Eddie's plush panda and his pacifier, casting worried glances at the human the entire time. 

Eddie buried his face in the angel's shoulder. 

Jack was horrified to find out that his baby could sporadically begain to bleed from out his orifices at any time. It took ages to convince him that nothing was really wrong with Eddie, that nosebleeds were nothing serious. Jack clutched Eddie tightly, then less tightly, because he was terribly afraid he was hurting Little Eddie. 

After a diaper change and a breakfast spent in Jack's lap being spoon fed, it was made quite clear that Jack wouldn't be letting him go anytime soon. Jack kept asking if he needed anything, and looking him over and smothwimg him with kisses. At one point Eddie had to use the bathroom, in the way he definitely want to use his diaper for. Jack would usually just take his (usually wet) diaper off and he would use the bathroom. But this time, Jack followed him in. Sitting on the bathroom floor and watching him. Eddie did succeed in getting Jack to turn around, but he wouldn't leave the bathroom all together, far too worried that something terrible would happen to Eddie if he was left alone. 

Eddie was starting to feel smothered again, and with that smothered feeling came an odd irritation with Jack. Almost.... Anger towards him. Which quite frankly unnnerved Eddie far more than Jack's worried clinging. 

All of the circumstances of his life had never made him into an angry person. They had left him with a deep need to please and a somewhat nervous disposition, and the deep and unending desire to be loved, but they had never made him angry. It felt wrong. Especially because it was directed at his Mommy, who was only worried about him, and loved him and was so very good to him. 

Eddie shoved his thumb into his mouth and released his bladder into his diaper, trying to take comfort in the familiar feeling and soothe his own sense of disquiet. 

"Mommy?" Eddie asked. 

"Yes baby? What is it? What do you need?" 

"Can I have a nap?.... In my room" He asked. Because maybe he would feel more like himself again when he woke up."

"Of course baby! " Jack set Eddie on his hip as he begain to make long strides towards the mirror. "Anything you want!"


	296. Chapter 296

Aziraphale could tell Crowley was upset. It wasn't particularly hard to come to this conclusion seeing as Crowly was currently curled up in a small ball under the covers. 

So Aziraphale had made tea and a nice warm bottle of vanilla milk for his demon. He set the containers on the nightstand and placed a gently hand on the lump of blankets that Crowley was under. "Dear,"he begain, "is there anything that you want? "

"Blankieeee" the demon hissed. 

"Of course dear. Err.... Where is your blankie darling?"

"Sssssofa"

So with one last gentle pat to Crowley, Aziraphale went out to fetch his blankie. The angel was quite alarmed to find that Crowley wasn't still curled up under the covers when he returned. He was working himself up into quite a panic, when he spied a bit of movement coming from inside his angel wing mug. He looked down in it to find a very small (and rather sad looking) black and red snake warming himself in the liquid. Aziraphale felt all of his irritation melt away as he stared down at the tiny snake. He held out a a pudgy hand and the small snake slithered onto his palm. 

The angel gently stoked the tiny head. 'Do you want to be a snake for a while, dear, or would you like to be human or well, at lease a bit bigger so we can have a cuddle?" 

"Cuuuuddle" Crowley whined, and Aziraphale let out an "ooof" as he found himself with a lap full of human shaped demon. 

He patted his baby's diapered bottom. "Someone needs a change, dear."

Crowley groaned, but he didn't fuss as he was laid down on the changing mat. He stared at the ceiling and gnawed at the tags on his blankie. 

Aziraphale had learned that Crowley rather liked being very thickly diapered, but only sometimes, mostly when he was feeling quite little. He also couldn't seem to bring himself to ask for the comfort of being doubled diapered when he needed it though, so Aziraphale had come up with an alternative. When he was diapering Crowley, he would (if he thought that Crowley was little ebough for it) he would hold up a second diaper and Crowley would either nod or shake his head. He nodded today, and so Aziraphale taped a second diaper on, and pulled a soft diaper cover with lovely little ruffles on the bum, over that. 

Once he was finished, he swaddled his demon up in all the softest blankets and held him tightly. 

"He'sssss going to die." Crowley whispered into Aziraphale's shoulder. 

No, no dear. I checked him over. I couldn't find anything wrong with him... Well... Besides the nosebleed."

"But he will... Eventually. He'll get old and his cells will stop regenerating and his organsssss will stop working and he'll diiieeee angel! Or he'll slip on the stairsssss and crack open hissss head like a ripe weather melon and then he'll either go to the lake of souls in Hell or... Or wherever they keep soulssss in Heaven and... And we'll never see him again!"

"Filing cabinets"

Crowley looked up at his angel curiously. 

"Ah.. we.... They, keep the souls in Heaven in filing cabinets... Very efficient. "

"I don't want Eddie stuck in a rotten old filing cabinet. "The demon whined. "The whole bloody system is ssssstupid!"

"I can't day I entirely disagree with you dear.... There are.... Ways... To extend a human's life. But... Crowley, it must be Eddie's choice... whatever we do."

"But he'll choose to say here with ussss right.... He... He lovesssss usssss.... Doesn't he?"

"Of course he does, but humans, well the aren't like us. They weren't made like us, they often can't adapt to the short amount of time they are given, let alone hundreds of years. They suffer when they live, and they don't do particularly well with change. "

"Neither do you," Crowley huffed. 

Aziraphale knew he wasn't telling Crowley anything he didn't already know, but on occasion people needed told things they already knew. "You do know, dear, that we, and the mirror wraiths, will make his life, however long or short it may be, very, very good. "

"Angel?" Crowley asked, his huge yellow eyes staring sadly up at his angel. 

"Yes dear? "

"Can we take Eddie out for a walk in the park? Humanssss need outside time to run around and roll the dirt and eat grassss and other human thingssss. "

Aziraphale honestly wasn't certain if Crowley earnestly beloved that humans needed to go out occasionally and eat grass like housecats or not.... It was always rather hard to tell with Crowley. 

The angel glanced out the window, it was raining heavily, and certain to be cool out when the rain finally ceased. But really, how was he supposed to say no to those huge yellow eyes? He also rather suspected that the asking was solely for Aziraphale's benefit, and that if he said "no" that Crowley would simply do it anyway. He suppressed a sigh. "If we wrap you up and you promise to tell me if you fell the tiniest chill coming on." He booped Crowley on the nose. "Then of course we can. You are such a darling taking such good care of your little friend. "

"Not gooooood angel! Selfissssh. I'm taking care of him because I want him to live forever, for entirely selfisssssh reasons!" 

Aziraphale stared softly down at his "selfish" little demon, practically bursting with love. He stoked Crowley's cheek. "Would you like your bottle now, dear?"

Crowley snuggled down into his Papa's arms. And shoved his thumb into his mouth and nodded.


	297. Chapter 297

Jack buttoned up Eddie's coat, and wrapped his back and white checked scarf around his neck. (Kintted by Jack himself and quite lumpy, but Eddie loved it because Jack had make it just for him) 

The mirror wraith pressed a small black compact mirror into Eddies palm. "I know you don't need me all the time baby... But if you do just open this and call me." He then proceeded to smother Eddie's face in kisses. 

Eddie took Aziraphale's hand and with Crowley they proceeded out the door of the shop. Eddie looked back and there was was his Mummy staring back at him from out the dusty bookstore window, smiling his too wide smile and waving. Eddie waved back untill he could no longer see the absurdly tall figure in the bookshop window. 

He looked at Aziraphale, who looked pink cheeked and happy pushing Crowley's stroller. (Which Crowley had put a token fight about, but was now snuggled in quite happily.) 

Eddie looked around at the people walking around them, and it occurred to him that he wasn't worried about them at all. He was dressed in black overalls with shiny silver snaps going up the legs and he was pretty sure that you could tell he was thickly diapered by the slight bulging around his crotch and bottom. Even more damning he was sucking on a panda bear themed pacifier and clutching his panda but he felt no anxiety whatsoever about what a big dumb baby people must think he was. First he lost his fear of Aziraphale, and now this, Eddie felt... Well.... He felt good. 

They reached the park, and Crowley slithered out of his pram and grabbed Eddie's hand so they could go and feed the ducks. Aziraphale parked the stroller by a bench (his and Crowley's usual of course) and trotted down to join them. Crowley and Eddie sat by the river as hungry ducks swarmed them, quacking and flapping their wings in avian tyranny, demanding their brioche. (Aziraphale spoiled them) 

it was a nice way to spend an afternoon. Eddie had, he found, missed being outside. And being outside was much nicer when he was there because he wanted to be and not because he had no inside to go to. 

The ducks seemed to absolutely adore Crowley and Aziraphale, practicaly climbing into their laps. They must have decided that since Eddie was with the angel and demon he was alright as well, because, while they wouldn't crawl in his lap, they would bump their little feathery bodies up against his. 

Eddie was just letting a particularly talkative duck eat out of his hand when the first though came to him. It darted across his mind like a flash of lightening, leaving almost as quickly as it came. Then another thought, then another untill he was left staring blankly ahead his noe Empty hand still outstreched, the noisy duck long since having eaten his fill and waddled away. 

"Eddie!"

Eddie blinked, and shook his head. 

Crowley crawled over to him looking rather worried. "Are you alright? "

"Uh..... Y.. Yea... I'm I'm fine." Eddie gave a nervous little smile that didn't reach his eyes. "J.. Just lost in thought, that's all. "

"Are you sure dear? " the angel piped up, walking over to place a hand on Crowley's shoulder and stare worriedly at the human "It's only that you did look quite.... well, out of it for a moment dear. And your eyes looked rather peculiar. "

Eddie shook his head, and repeated again that he was fine, and it was just a bit of daydreaming that had mede him look so peculiar, because how could he tell them that he had been imaging stretching his jaw impossibly wide and tearing meaty, bloody hunks out of the duck he'd just been feeding. it had all felt so real, he could almost taste the cooppery taste of blood in his mouth. Like a memory or a strong fantasy. Which was odd, ans kind of unsettling because Eddie had never before desired to bite into living waterfowl before. He liked ducks. They'd never done anything to hurt him. They just went about their business, swimming and quacking and living their little ducky lives. Besides, if he hurt a duck he couldn't imagine how upset Aziraphale and Crowley would be, especially Crowley. 

He thought about it all thw way home, as he rode in the stroller with Crowley curled protectively around him. He could never tell anyone about this, even amongst angels and demons and mirror wraiths this was probably pretty weird, and Eddie certainly didn't want them to think that he was more trouble than he was worth... Or even worse a danger to anyone of them. He hugged Crowley tighter, though careful not to hold him too tight. 

If he did think that he ever might do something to any of them, he would leave he told himself firmly. Even if he couldn't really hurt them physically. They had been so kind to him, and he loved them. They were the best family he had ever had. Here he never felt like anything he wanted or needed was odd or inconvenient, everyone always seemed so happy to care for him and love him. They didn't deserve for him to start causing trouble. 

Desprate fpr somtging to soothe him, Eddie peed his diaper and manuvered Crowley so that the demon was splayed over him like a living weighted blanket. He closed his eyes ans breathed in Crowley's comforting babyish smell. It wouldn't come to that, he told himself. He was fine. He just... Was going through an odd time, that was all. It would pass, and everything would be fine again.


	298. Chapter 298

Ligur sat quietly on the sofa feeding Hastur a bottle when Gregor came to sit by him. He hadn't seen the mirror wraith recently. He hadn't seen any of the mirror wraiths except for Jack. The female looking one and the creepy twins seemed to be off somewhere in the mirror realm, doing …well..

Whatever mirror wraiths did in the mirror realm Ligur supposed.

Gregor produced a spray bottle from out of the abhorrently ugly sweater he still insisted in wearing for reasons that the Ligur couldn't comprehend. The demon looked at the object curiously.

"I have been meaning to give this to you."

"Uhhhh... Why? " Ligur couldn't fathom what he would do with a spray bottle.

But Hastur seemed to know. His eyes widened at the sight of the bottle and he scurried over so he was half on Gregor's lap and half on Gregor's. He tilted his head up and grunted demandingly at the mirror wraith, obviously wanting something.

Gregor faced the spray bottle at Hastur and gently pulled the trigger.

Ligur had a brief moment of panic, convinced that the spray bottle was full of holy water. However, only a fine mist came out and bathed his little toad's face in dewy water droplets. Hastur started to emit a sort of humming noise from deep inside his chest. Hastur's toad gradually materialized on his head.

Gregor cocked his head, "oh... "He said "that's new"

"He's never materialized his toad before?" Ligur couldn't help but feel pleased that Hastur was comfortable enough to keep his toad visible around him, but not in front of the mirror wraith.

"No, it's rather charming isn't it? "

"Yes, yes, it is." Ligur smiled down at his little toad while rubbing his back.

"Here." Gregor handed the spray bottle to Ligur.

"Wouldn't you like to keep it?"

"No," Gregor shook his head. "I got it for Hastur, and now my time with him is over."

"Oh...thank you. " Ligur said quietly. This was what he wanted wasn't it? For the mirror wraith to leave his Little Toad alone.

Ligur frowned, and misted Hastur, his head toad croaking happily. He could tell the mirror wraith was about to get up and leave, suddenly, the demon didn't want that. What would it hurt if Gregor stayed just a bit longer? "The human... " Ligur began

"Eddie" Gregor supplied.

"Has he stopped the sleep walking?"

Gregor seemed to light up at being asked a question. Hastur wriggled onto his back and fisted a hand in Gregor's sweater, sucking on his turtle pacifier contentedly and doing his very best to make his diaper leak all over Ligur's lap. Ligur couldn't help but see how very content they both looked together.

"Quite on the contrary." Gregor began, absentmindedly stroking a finger down the side of Hastur's face. "Last night he went into Helena's room. He's never done that before. It's... " Gregor tapped his finger against his lips, "almost as if he's becoming more and more comfortable exploring. Getting bolder. It's quite fascinating really. Human minds are such odd things. However, if this goes on much longer, I rather think I should tell the others. It might be something they ought to be aware of. Though, I rather don't look forward to telling Eddie. He might not like it.... Humans are so sensitive about the oddest things. "

Ligur hummed in agreement and they fell into silence. Soon they could hear the sleepy snuffling of Hastur, and they came to the realization that neither could move without waking the slumbering little.

Gregor pulled a book from inside his atrocious sweater, and Ligur wondered if the hideous thing had pockets sewn inside it. Soon boredom spurred him to ask the mirror wraith want he was reading.

"The Call of Cthulhu" Gregor replied. "You… might like it... " he ventured hesitantly. "Would you care for me to read it aloud?"

Ligur, ever a demon of few words, simply nodded.

The last rays of the day's sunlight bathed them all in pale golden light as Gregor turned to the first page and began.

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.... "


	299. Chapter 299

It's your own fault, dear." Aziraphale said, giving absolutely no sympathy to the small, sulking snake he was bathing in his washbasin. "You just had to slither into my cocoa didn't you, my cocoa with whipped cream I might add. "

"It wassssss warm angel!" the snake whined. "I was ssooooo cooooollllldd."

"Really dear." Aziraphale pursed his lips. "You have a heating pad, and you could have just asked for a cuddle or a bath."

Crowley didn't answer, just hissed grumpily. Aziraphale scooped the small wriggling noodle out of the wash basin and began to gently pat him dry. Crowley wrapped his small snaky body around Aziraphale's wrist, then he poked his head under the angel's pale pink cuff, and proceeded to slither his way up Aziraphale's bare arm and down his chest and across his back using his tiny forked tounge to tickle the angel's bare flesh all the way. 

"Oooohhhh! Aaahhhhh! Really you naughty, naughty old serpent! " Aziraphale wiggled about, hopping from foot to foot, trying to locate the small snake in his sweater. 

After much writhing around, both by Crowley and Aziraphale, the naughty little thing poked his head up through Aziraphale's collar and tickled his cheek with his forked tongue. Once Aziraphale stopped laughing and caught his breath, he booped his giggling noodle on the snoot. "I really ought to put you in the corner, you naughty thing. " 

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale attempting to be as cute as possible. "But you won't."

"No... " Aziraphale huffed down at his little snake. But he was smiling. "I won't. Thank you dear... I really did need that. Well... Maybe not that exactly... But... Oh well, you know what I mean, darling." 

"Yessssss" Crowley hissed, because he did. He prided himself on always trying to provide his angel with what he needed. 

Aziraphale laid down on the bed, and Crowley curled up into a little snake ball on his angel's chest. (One of the great perks of being a snake is that you could be your own blankie) Aziraphale gently stroked Crowley's tiny coils. 

"Do you think Eddie'sssss alright? He keepssssss staring off into space. He didn't eat any grass at the park, so I've been putting some into his saladssssss. Will that help?"

Aziraphale had wondered why Crowley had insisted on having salad so often. He looked down at his hopeful snake and couldn't really bear to try to explain the intricacies of the human digestive process to Crowley. (Attempting to explain why one unicorn couldn't make baby unicorns after the entire ark debacle had been trying enough.) So the angel just smiled gently down at Crowley and told him "I bet it is, dear. Maybe Eddie is just having a bit of a... down period. Humans sort of ebb and flow, they’re alright one day and not the next. Before you know it, he'll be alright again. "

"I hope sssssso." Crowley tucked his little head under one of his coils. "He barely playssss with me anymore. And he looksss.... grey. "

"Grey? He looks the same color as he always has to me? "

"Noooo, not literally. He just looks dull. I dunno how to explain it better that that. "

"Oh. Yes. " Aziraphale gently gathered up his little noodle in both hands to nuzzle him against his cheek. "Why don't we get something nice for Eddie? You could help me pick it out, dear. Maybe take him to the park again. He seemed very interested in the ducks."

"Yessss" Crowley hissed rubbing his face against his angel's cheek, eyeing Aziraphale's cocoa mug again as he did. After all, it was getting a bit chilly in here.


	300. Chapter 300

It was for some reason, really hard for Eddie to wake up. He felt like he was fighting back some sort of heavy black fog as his mind slowly sparked back into consciousness. 

His had felt heavy and hazy and he rested his head on a conveniently placed wall behind him. He lifted a heavy arm up to scratch at his leg. It was oddly warm, almost burning.... And so was his other arm... There was also an unpleasant smell in the air, and Eddie supposed that he really should open his eyes and see what was going on. 

He looked down at his leg first. He stared blankly at the three deep scratches still lazily oozing blood. Then he looked to his arm where there were similar deep scratches. He went to cover the scratches in his arm with his other hand and noticed that his hand was already bloody. There were clots of blood and underneath his fingernails and slowly it dawned on him with growing horror that he had done this.

He curled up on himself, jamming a still bloody thumb into his mouth, and screwing his face up at the sharp tang of copper. As he shifted around, it occurred to him that he was sitting in something warm and mushy. He got up on his hands and knees and looked down at the tiled bathroom floor. There was nothing except a few smears of blood, but the feeling still remained.... Suddenly it clicked in Eddie's head.. He had messed his diaper. 

He curled back up on the floor, sticking his thumb into his mouth and beginning to sob. He didn't know what was happening... But he knew he damn well he didn't like it. 

He really wanted his Mommy, or Helena or the twins or someone... But at the same time... this was his mess... Apparently... And he didn't want them to have to clean it up. He'd do it.... He just needed a few minutes. 

More than a few minutes had passed when the door slowly opened. 

"Go away! " Eddie cried out. "Go away!"

Hastur padded in on his stocking feet, because he was a demon and demons didn't do what they were told. (Except of course, if it was someone like Beelzebub or Lucifer doing the telling) 

Hastur sat down by Eddie and grunted a single word "What?"

Eddie had spent enough time around the toad demon to know that what he meant by that one word was "What happened to you? You're crying and covered in blood on the bathroom floor. "

"I dunno" Eddie said, his head buried in his hands "I dunno.... Go away.... Go away... I'm really gross.... Go 'way" 

Living in Hell, Hastur had long ago ceased to be remotely bothered by anything "gross" (there were some, who would even call Hastur himself gross... Unfairly of course...) 

The demon gently shoved his way into Eddie's lap and curled up there, wrapping his arms around the shaking human and squeezing gently. His head toad croaked at Eddie, and the human wiped his eyes to reach out a trembling hand to gently stroke the fat toad. 

Hastur grunted. He felt bigger than he had in quite awhile, but not completely big. Definitely not big enough to deal with whatever bullshit this was, but still.... 

Hastur didn't like humans, and his opinion of the species hadn't changed. They were egotistical and stupid for all they claimed to be the smartest animal. They bred uncontrollably and they repeated the same mistakes over and over with each new generation of humans. They also committed what was to Hastur the most unforgivable of sins, they drained swamps and destroyed the habitats of frogs and toads. (He had even heard of the disgusting creatures eating his fellow amphibians) And yet, as stupid and terrible as humans were, Eddie was HIS stupid, terrible human. And Hastur protected what was his. So, he'd just have to fix whatever was wrong with Eddie... He could totally do that....


	301. Chapter 301

Hastur slowly extracted himself from Eddie's hold. As soon as he had the human curled back in on himself. 

Hastur frowned. He didn't want Eddie to think he was leaving him.... Well he was, but just for a moment.. So Hastur lifted the toad off his head and gently nudged it against Eddie's fisted hands. 

"Y.. Y.. You want m.. Me to hold your toad? " Eddie asked. 

Hastur nodded, of course that was what he wanted. Really.... Eddie wasn't the sharpest knife in the.... Thing where you put knives.... 

Eddie took the toad and held it in his arms reverently. 

Hastur pointed to Eddie "Stay! " 

Hastur scurried of the bathroom and stood in the hallway. He didn't know exactly what he was going to do. His usual solutions to most problems (fight it, swear at it, run way from it, and pee on it) didn't seem like they would work here. He scratched his head and frowned. Then slowly an idea crept up on him, and he half ran back down the hallway. 

Ligur was awoken to Hastur jumping on him. He bounced up and down on the demon's chest; and Ligur was quite glad that for him, breathing was optional. 

"Need you!" Hastur whined. 

Upon hearing that, Ligur wasted no time in picking up the bouncing baby toad and setting him on the floor to examine him for anything that might be the matter. There were no visible injuries on his little toad. He was dressed in his fuzzy moss-green socks and his black Kermit the Frog tee shirt. (Ligur had long ago been thoroughly informed of who Kermit the Frog was) The Little demon's diaper sagged low between his thighs, and Ligur wondered if he hadn't been woken up for a night time diaper change. 

He let Hastur drag him by the hand down the hall and to the bathroom. He was expecting Hastur to demand a diaper change, or maybe a midnight bath. He was not expecting for Hastur to open the door to the bathroom to reveal a bloody human curled up on the floor. 

Hastur looked very seriously at Ligur, then pointed to the human who was now looking at him with large frightened eyes. The little toad brought up a pale finger to point at the little. "Fix him.” Hastur demanded.


	302. Chapter 302

Ligur crouched down next to the human. Normally he wouldn't lift a finger to help a human, and not just because it was against company policy. But he had seen this particular human interact with his Little Toad. He had watched as Eddie cuddled him and played with him, and painted his nails with shiny black nail polish and change his diapers and let Hastur change the television channel to yet another episode of the Muppets even though he was in the middle of watching something else. So, in Ligur's opinion, this human was... Tolerable. 

"I need to see where the blood is coming from." 

Eddie looked at Hastur, who nodded and tried to look encouraging. (He failed and only managed to look mildly constipated.) Then Eddie slowly extended his bloodied arm to the demon. 

. And placed a hand above them miracleing the wounds away. "Are there any more?"

Ligur looked over the wounds

"O... On m.. Mmy leg. I dunno if um... There are any more. T... They don't really hurt... They're just... Really warm. " Eddie whispered. 

"Will you undress? So that I can examine you?"

Eddie curled up further on himself, still clutching the toad. 

Hastur shoved Ligur aside to crouch down before Eddie. " s'alright Ligur is.... Ok. I won't let him hurt you. "

Eddie snorted "What are you going to do pee on him?"

"Yes" Hastur replied, because that had been exactly his plan. 

"I can fix you." Hastur grunted, because it had just occurred to him that he too was a demon and could perform demonic miracles. 

"Would you like me to get your Mommy instead?" Ligur asked. 

"NO! No.... It's fine." Said Eddie, looking down at fat toad in his hands. "I.. I'll just.... " His words trailed off and he held out the toad for Hastur to take and place back on his head. 

It took Eddie a long while to undress. He felt unreasonably tired and his hands shook. His Nightmare Before Christmas shirt didn't seem to want to go over his head and his black and white checked pajama pants were stuck to his legs in some places with dried blood. He kept wincing as his movement squished around the mess in his diaper. As soon as he was standing there in just his soiled diaper in front of the two demons, he began to pee out of sheer nervousness. His face went red and he shifted from foot to foot, sticking his thumb into his mouth and sucking hard, desperate for any comfort he could get. 

Ligur seemed not to take any notice of his obviously messy diaper and set about healing the scratches. There were more than Eddie had previously thought. Even a set in the middle of his back where he couldn't even reach himself. 

Once Ligur was finished, he sat back to looks over Eddie once more, them said a soft "oh, yes! " and Eddie felt the mess in his diaper just... Disappear. It became soft and cushy and dry once more and the unpleasant smell that had been lingering around him evaporated and was replaced with the comforting scent of baby powder. 

Eddie redressed himself in his now clean clothes and Hastur took him by the hand and pulled him to the living room sofa. The toad demon pushed him down then proceeded to frantically scurry around the room and quite literally throw blankets and pillows and plushies at the little human. Eddie smiled as he ducked because he knew that this was Hastur's err... Unique way of trying to take care of him. 

Ligur (with some hinderance meant as help from Hastur) gently helped a very tired Eddie settle on the sofa. 

Hastur scrambled up on the human’s lap and held out his second-best frog themed pacifier for Eddie to have. 

"Thank you" Eddie said and clutched the toad demon close. 

"Are you certain you don't want your mommy? "

Eddie shook his head. He did want his mommy, but he didn't want to bother Jack. He'd already bothered Ligur and Hastur, after all. 

"Then, will you two be alright here by yourself for a moment? I need to do something. "

Eddie nodded and Hastur puffed out his chest. "I'll take care of Eddie. ?" 

Ligur looked down at Hastur, his eyes shining with affection. "I know you will, my little toad" and he kissed him on the forehead. Then he kissed Hastur's head toad for good measure and made his way across the living room, striding over to the mirror and walking through. 

Hastur watched his lizard Daddy leave with a seance of dread. He didn't like it when Ligur left, but he had a good idea of what he was doing and Hastur had promised to take care of Eddie. He made himself more comfortable on the human's lap, curling up and cuddling a plushie and having a wee in his diaper for good measure. Then he miracled up the remote, and, instead of turning it directly to the Muppets as he had every time before, he turned on the Addams Family, before handing the remote to Eddie in case he wanted to watch something else. 

Eddie wrapped his arms around the demon and squeezed. Saying an almost imperceptible "thank you" Hastur just grunted, a bit uncomfortable. It wasn't like he'd done anything (Satan forbid) "Nice" after all.


	303. Chapter 303

Eddie sucked furiously on his pacifier as three sets of inhuman eyes stared at him  
"So... I... I sleepwalk? " 

"Yes, it would appear so," Gregor's deep voice rumbled back. 

"And that's why I scratched myself and.... And I don't remember doing it?" 

Gregor nodded. "I do apologize. I had no idea that your sleep walking would result in damage to your corporeal form. That wasn't in any of the books I read. " Gregor frowned. "Things should be in books." 

"It's ok. " Eddie fiddled with Hastur's hair absentmindedly and patted the head toad. "I... Umm... I'm really sorry about this.... I never sleep walked before. I swear... But uhhhh.... What um... What happens now?" (What Eddie really meant by this was "what happens to me now? Have I finally become too much trouble, and you're going to tell me I need to leave?") 

"We should inform the others. " Ligur said, "and from there it should be simply a matter of finding a way to make certain that you don't sleepwalk without supervision from now on." 

Hastur had his own idea on how to do this. "I sit, " he announced. 

"Whaa... Do you mean sit on me?" 

Hastur turned so that he was staring directly at Eddie with intense black eyes. "Yes.I sit on you, you don't move. " 

"Every night? " asked Eddie 

"Every night," Hastur said, and his words sounded a lot like a threat. 

And yet.... somehow Eddie wasn't frightened. An actual demon was threatening to perch on his chest every night as if they were re-enacting Henry Fuseli's the Nightmare, and instead of terrifying, he found Hastur’s idea... comforting. 

"I think that we ought to tell Jack and the others before we decide anything." Gregor said. "And, of course, we won't do anything that you don't want done, Eddie."

"That includes human sitting," Ligur added, looking pointedly at Hastur. 

Hastur grunted and snuggled up to Eddie, turning his nose up at his daddy. 

Eddie gnawed on the frog pacifier and asked in a very small voice. "Can we wait till everyone else wakes up? ... I mean to tell them about the.... Um.... Sleep walking." 

Gregor nodded. "We will. Would you like to go back to bed? " 

"Uhh.... Can I sleep out here? With Hastur? "

"Yes. " Hastur grunted "Sleep now."

"No, I'm afraid, " Ligur picked up a squirming Hastur "Diaper change first." 

Hastur grunted and wriggled, but he didn't really put up much of a fight when Ligur laid him on the changing mat. By the time Hastur had been cleaned up and thickly diapered, Eddie was asleep. Ligur hesitated placing Hastur on the sleeping human; but Hastur wriggled out of his arms and curled up on top of Eddie, so Ligur just tucked blankets around his little Toad. Then he kissed him on the forehead, and made certain that he had his Kermit plushie and paci, before going to sit with Gregor and watch over the two sleeping littles until the sun came up.


	304. Chapter 304

Jack paced back and forth chewing on his violently orange painted fingernails. Eddie had been hurt.... Or sick... Or both? (Jack wasn't certain of the terminology.) Last night and he hadn't been there…Eddie hadn't wanted him there. 

"Am I a bad Mommy? " Jack asked Gregor, who had ever so kindly taken him aside to inform him of last night’s events. "I mean.... Eddie didn't want me! He was in distress and he didn't want me! Littles are supposed to want their Mommies! That's just how it is! Did I do something wrong? Am I untrustworthy?"

Jack had grabbed the collar of Gregor's shirt and was now half yelling in to his face. Gregor, for his part seemed rather unperturbed by this. 

"I think that Eddie didn't wish to bother you. " 

"He should bother me! I'm his Mummy! And.... And this is important! " 

People in books always knew just what to say. Gregor, however, didn't, so he held Jack for a while and patted his back, until Jack slowly got up off his lap, took a deep breath, and went out to the sitting room. 

"Hi baby" He smiled at Eddie, who was still lying on the sofa, Hastur toad-sitting atop him, glaring at everyone with his shiny black eyes. 

"Hi, Mommy," Eddie replied softly, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

Jack's fingers twitched. He longed to go over and scoop the little human up and just hold him forever, to protect him from everything, even the unhappy circumstances of his own mortal form. But.... Eddie probably didn't want that at the moment. He hadn't wanted him last night after all, so why would he want him now? 

"How are you feeling? " 

"Umm.... Ok now.... Just really tired." 

Jack widened his ever-present smile.... But it felt strange, and not the good sort of strange. "Why don't you have a nice nap after we eat then, baby? " He reached out and ruffled Eddie's hair. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his baby why he hadn't wanted him last night, when Aziraphale and Crowley stumbled in, as usual with the worst timing possible. 

Crowley made his way over to the sofa and tried to shove Hastur over so he could sit down as well. Hastur however seemed largely against this, and the two demons began to shove each other back and forth until Eddie arranged them all so they could be sitting together. 

Jack felt as though the moment had passed. He'd ask Eddie later, he decided, and plodded into the kitchen to see about breakfast.


	305. Chapter 305

Ligur watched as Gregor, Jack, and Aziraphale flipped through thick books full of anatomical drawings and medicinal plants. 

"Can humans reach their backs with their hands?" he queried. He didn't think they could, but… well, his general knowledge of humans was somewhat lacking. 

Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles. "Some can, most can't. Why do you ask, dear? " 

"I was just wondering something." Ligur answered. He stood up and left to go upstairs, because Demons didn't say "excuse me. " 

Eddie was awake now, playing with Hastur while Crowley napped in a pile of blankets on the sofa. 

"Human," Ligur began, and Hastur glared at him. 

" Human Eddie" he corrected. 

"Uhhh... Yea? " He said looking up at the demon with wide eyes. 

"Reach behind your back. " 

"Um.... Ok" 

Ligur frowned. "No like this." He tried to pull Eddie’s hand into the position it would have needed to be in to make last night’s scratches, but the human Eddie’s arm didn't seem to want to bend the way Ligur was trying to make it go. 

Hastur grabbed Ligur's arm tightly. "Stop it! You can't do that to humans; you'll break him! He's mine! Get your own human if you want to break one." 

Ligur frowned. "I apologize. I didn't mean to hurt your human." 

Hastur grunted, and promptly ignored Ligur as he very pointedly went back to playing. 

Ligur went back downstairs. "Is it usual for Humans to be able to perform physical feats they otherwise would not be able to do while sleepwalking?" 

Aziraphale looked up at him over his spectacles. "Um... No... Not usually.... Why? " 

"Last night. The human... Eddie... Had scratch marks on his back that he could not physically accomplish normally. I just checked. His arm won't bend that far. " 

Aziraphale folded his spectacles up and looked to Gregor. 

"Could it have been some sort of seizure? " Gregor proposed. 

"When he had his nosebleed, I checked his brain for any obvious ailments... Just in case, and i found nothing, but I do admit I'm not the most skilled angel when it comes to healing. Though I think even I could find something that was causing such.... Prevalent.... symptoms. " 

"I suppose a human doctor is out of the question?" Jack asked tentatively from where he was sprawled out, face down, over a pile of books. 

"Completely!" Aziraphale said. "I know the poor dears only work with the knowledge they have, but really... Some of their treatments are absolutely wretched. Worse than the affliction! I won't have anyone cutting up Eddie or pumping him full of drugs made of who knows what in some wretched smog filled factory!" 

Jack looked rather ill by this point his face drawn up in a tight grimace. 

"Not to mention, how could we explain the.... Err.... Extenuating circumstances?" 

'Then what are we going to do?" Jack waved his ridiculously long arms about. " We need to fix Eddie now! " He flopped into Gregor's lap and the quiet demon wraith embraced him, stroking his hair and humming softly, the familiar sound reverberating through his chest and soothing Jack. 

"Don't fret too much, dear. Helena and the twins will be back soon. Maybe they will come up with something! " Aziraphale than very softly said "I hope" under his breath before continuing "Helena is very knowledgeable, after all. " 

Jack made a non-committal groan and rolled over in Gregor's lap, while Gregor and Aziraphale shared worried looks.


	306. Chapter 306

It wasn't in the end, Helena or even the twins who came up with an idea to fix the Eddie problem. It was, most unexpectedly Crowley. 

That night Crowley had set about grooming Aziraphale's wings while the angel read and snacked on a bowl of fat, red strawberries. (This was all a part of Crowley's Angel Care and Feeding Program he had recently implemented.) Crowley ran his fingers through the soft white feathers, straightening them into their proper positions. (And occasionally nuzzling his face into the soft white feathery expanse of the angel’s wings) 

Aziraphale had just been eyeing his mug of cocoa, pondering taking a sip, but wondered if a small black and red snake had been warming itself in the mug while he wasn't looking. 

"What about the book girl?" 

Aziraphale put down his cocoa. "The book girl? Whatever are you on about, dear?" 

"Nugghhhhhuu! The boooook girlllll angel! The BoOk GiRl! The witch! " 

"Oh! You mean Anathema! Really, darling, don't you know her name by now? " 

"Guhhh". Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes. "Angeeeellll" 

Aziraphale picked up his angel mug, "what about her, dear?" 

"Why don't we assssssk her about Eddie! She'ssssss human so she should know about human stuff and she'sssss a witch so she knowssss about" here Crowley flung one spindly hand about gesturing to both of them."usssssss! Thisssss! Supernatural stuff!" 

The angel set his cocoa down once again, whirling around, his wings hitting Crowley square in the face and knocking a few unfortunate plushies and pillows off the bed. 

Crowley wet himself and scrambled backwards, rather alarmed. Aziraphale squished Crowley's thin face between his hands. "Crowley! Crowley! " 

"What angel? What?" 

"My dear, clever baby! You had a good idea!" 

Crowley blinked his huge yellow eyes at his angel. "I... Did? " 

"Yes!" 

"Oh.... " 

Aziraphale then proceeded to smother his still bewildered snake's face in kisses. "I need to go and tell Jack and Eddie and Gregor and …Ooh! You really are clever, dear!" 

The angel gave Crowley’s forehead one last kiss and scurried out of the room, his wings knocking over a stack of novels and a bottle of baby powder and getting caught briefly on the doorframe. 

Crowley blinked after him.... He Anthony J Crowley had had a good idea. Not just any good idea... But an angel-approved good idea. A smile crept across the demon's face.


	307. Chapter 307

Anathema Device, along with Newt, arrived at the bookshop the next day with a purple damask bag full of various types of devices (carried by Anathema) and a stack of quite old looking books. (carried by Newt). 

Anathema arranged her long dark skirts around her as she kneeled down next to the sofa where Eddie was sitting swathed in blankets. 

"Will you please take your shirt off so I can examine you."

Eddie looked to Jack, who was sitting beside him. Jack nodded and proceeded to help Eddie out of his Invader Zim T-shirt. Eddie loomed nervously at the witch. "Bottoms too? " he asked quietly. He was fairly mortified at the ide a of Anathema; who was everything he wanted to be, strong, confident, magically skilled, and fabulously Gothic, seeing his thick diaper with a happy smiling panda face on it.... Which he had just wet, which made it much worse. It was one thing to be wearing a diaper. And another thing entirely to be wearing one you had wet. 

"No, this will be fine."

She set about examining Eddie, though first Hastur had to be removed from his lap... Which was easier said than done. Hastur didn't seem to trust the witch whatsoever, and Anathema could feel black eyes boring into her back.

Anathema then begain to inspect the places where the scratches had been. She looked up Eddie's nose and into his eyes with a small flashlight, and finally she brought out a small decorative silver knife from out of a sterile plastic container. "If I could have your palm please" she asked

Eddie eyed the sharp edge of the knife carefully. "Whats that for?"

"Just a small incision on your palm, to gather some blood. "

"I have bandages!" Newt offered, rummaging around in his pockets. 

Jack reached over and intwined his grotesquely long fingers with Eddie's much shorter ones and squeezed. Eddie gave his Mommy a hesitant smile, then he somewhat reluctantly held out his other hand for Anathema to slice and collect his blood in several small clear vials. 

Newt gently placed a superhero plaster across the cut and smiled slightly awkwardly, yet somehow comfortingly at Eddie. 

"That will be all we will need you for now, I think." Helena said as she rose and brushed imaginary dust off her dark green skirts. The witch then made her way to to the kitchen with single minded purposeness. Newt reached out to hesitantly ruffle Eddie's hair then scurried after her. 

Jack carefully helped Eddie pull his shirt back on and then pulled him into his lap holding him tightly. Now that the unfamiliar people were gone Eddie felt alright to relax into his Mommy's hold and stick a comforting thumb in his mouth.   
Hastur hoped onto the sofa with a grunt and shoved his head toad at Eddie. Eddie carefully placed the fat thing in his lap and begain to stroke its head. It gave a pleased little croak, that made Eddie smile. 

Crowley feeling rather outdone, slipped off his angel's lap and wriggled on to the sofa as well, half laying over Hastur to assert his dominance over the toad demon.

Someone put in the television, the volume was low as it played the family opening sequence of the Addams Family. 

Eddie closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Whatever happened to him, at least.... At least he had had this. 

Jack gave wrapped his long arms around Eddie and squeezed (inadvertently also wrapping them around a semi- annoyed Hastur in the process.) He buried his face in Eddie's blonde hair. He needed this to be something that could be fixed. He needed Eddie to be with him for as long as he possibly could be. This was too soon... Even to a being who had next to no concept of time, Jack knew that if he were to lose Eddie now it would be far, far too soon. 


	308. Chapter 308

In the sitting Anathema took readings with her little devices which beeped and whirred and buzzed as everyone looked on curiously. Crowley trotted over to peer over her shoulder. 

"What'sssss that then?" he asked. His voice was small and curious and, in Aziraphale’s opinion, just adorable. 

Anathema looked slightly uncomfortable and settled a bit away from Crowley. She adjusted her glasses. "Currently I'm checking for abnormalities in the electromagnetic field." 

Crowley put his thumb in his mouth peered at her with his big, curious, yellow eyes. 

Anathema looked increasingly uncomfortable, apparently understanding that the little demon wanted more information than she’d already provided. 

"Why don't you come here and sit with me, darling, and let Anathema keep on doing... well... whatever she's doing with her electric fields." 

Crowley was a bit confused; Anathema had never acted like this with him before, but humans were strange and fickle creatures. So the demon just huffed and went to curl up on his angel's lap. 

Anathema studiously took her readings, jotting them down in a small leather notebook. When she looked up from the notebook, Aziraphale quietly asked "So what do you think it is?" 

Every eye in the room was fixed on the young witch. She even swore that some of the porcelain dolls lying around the play tent in the corner turned their heads to stare their glassy-eyed stares at her. 

Anathema was largely unbothered by this and cautiously replied, "I believe that the extreme and prolonged exposure to the mirror realm is changing Eddie.... On a level that isn't detectable by human means." 

"What... What do you mean? If you can't detect it, how do you know?" 

Anathema didn't answer right away but brought a small ornate box out of her skirt pocket. It was fashioned to like an opened mouthed gargoyle. She held it out to Aziraphale. "Prick your finger on the small spike on the Gargoyle's tongue and let the blood run down" 

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, but did as she asked. A fat drop of blood found its way on to the gargoyle's tongue. They all waited. Nothing. 

"Is it supposed to be doing something? " Jack asked. 

"Why don't you try? " said Anathema, holding out the box to the mirror wraith.

Jack eagerly pricked his own finger. 

"Your blood is orange?" Eddie asked rather askance. He wasn't certain why this of all things surprised him. 

"I like orange better than red" Jack sniffed, as if that explained anything. And strangely enough... Eddie understood. 

"It's um... Very pretty, Mommy." 

Jack beamed. 

Anathema cleared her throat, and everyone turned to watch as she pricked her own finger. This time the box opened. 

"I'm sorry, dear. I don't quite see what this has to do with anything... " Aziraphale began. 

"I do" Eddie said, then looked rather embarrassed, but he continued. "It only opens when the blood is human, right? " 

Anathema graced him with a small smile. "Yes." She passed the box to Eddie. "Why don't you try?" 

Eddie pricked his finger, eager to watch the Gargoyle's maw open once more.... He waited. Nothing. 

He pushed his thumb down on the little spike once more. Several drops of blood hit the Gargoyle's tongue.... Still nothing. 

A growing horror crept over him and he realized what this meant. He looked up at the other entities in the room. and saw in their faces that they too had come to the same conclusion.


	309. Chapter 309

"So.... I'm not human anymore?" 

"Well, yes and no" Anathema said, which was not helpful in the least. “You are, by all other measures, human. This box was designed specifically to keep anything out that wasn't human.” 

"What uh... Makes demon or angel or mirror wraith blood different from humans?" 

Anathema grimaced slightly and gave the box a look as if it had personally offended her. "I've been trying to find just that out. Quite frankly, I haven't had any luck. However, I think it does support my theory. The readings here and in the bookshop are off the charts. Electromagnetic, microwave, even radiation, all, I rather suspect, from the large and frequently used portal between dimensions you have in your living room. Humans aren't usually exposed to this sort of thing. " 

"What will happen to Eddie? Will he.... die? " Jack asked. Jack wasn’t certain of all of the particulars of human dying, but he understood from what Aziraphale had told him that all the important bits that made Eddie Eddie would just go away... Either to Heaven or Hell. Places Eddie couldn't leave and mirror wraiths weren't particularly welcome. And Jack, well.... Jack didn't care for that idea one bit.

The witch looked grave. "Maybe. It is possible that Eddie will become increasingly ill, or that he will change… maybe become more like you... more intangible. This entire thing really is unprecedented. I have heard of people going in to the mirror realm, but…never of them coming back. " 

That night as they lay in bed Jack held Eddie very close. Eddie could feel, even if he couldn’t see, that Jack was crying behind him. "We'll find you a new Mommy. A human mommy f.... far." Jack's voice wavered "far from here and all the radio-nations of our world. And they'll love you just as much as I do. And you'll be safe and you won't have to die.. And... and.. " Jack muffled his sobs by pressing his face into Eddie's hair. 

This was what Eddie had been planning wasn't it? To leave if things got bad, so as not to inconvenience anyone he cared about. Somehow it had never occurred to him that his leaving would be just as upsetting for the er… Entities he cared about as it would be for him. 

"No. " said Eddie, softly at first than more firmly. "No. I don't want another Mommy. " He wiggled around so that he was facing Jack, who was still smiling, white teeth glinting in the lamplight even though he was crying. "I want you. I love you.... And I've... I've been happier here than I've ever been anywhere else.... Like... In my entire life. I rather have a year with you and the twins and Helena and everyone and die or grow a second head or something than live a hundred years anywhere else! That's my decision. I umm... Get to make it, don't I? If you don't mind me staying? " 

"Of course! You're my baby! "Jack wailed, looking blurrier around the edges than usual. "I want you. Always! And I'll take care of you and love you for as long as you're here with me no matter what." 

He squeezed Eddie tight to him, until the human felt his eyeballs were in serious danger of popping out. Fortunately, he was saved from having to try to explain this to Jack by knocking at the door. 

Ligur entered carrying a wiggling Hastur who was making that odd toad noise which Eddie thought rather sounded like the air being let out of a balloon only angrier. 

Ligur looked as apologetic as a demon could. "He insists on sleeping here." 

Both Jack and Eddie were perfectly happy to let the demons in their bed. Hastur, just as he had promised, curled up on top of Eddie protectively. 

Snuggled between demons and a mirror wraith, the last thing Eddie was aware of before succumbed to the pleasant oblivion of sleep was a faint hissing and a warmth on his thighs. It took him a minute to realize that Hastur was peeing. Somehow having a toad demon piddle on him was.... less disturbing for Eddie than maybe it ought to be. 

Largely apathetic to his current demonic cicumstances, Eddie just laid his head on his mommy's shoulder and cuddled the demon closer, and went to sleep.


	310. Chapter 310

The days passed, as days have a tendency to do, and there was a lingering tension in the air. They all collectively caught themselves staring at Eddie, waiting for something terrible to happen... But... it never did. 

Eddie hadn't sleep-walked in days. (Hastur had indeed realized his threat to sit on him every night.) He hadn't had a nosebleed or woken up with unexplained scratches. And they all relaxed a little. 

Crowley took Eddie to the park again, (accompanied of course by his angel) because Hastur was an Eddie- monopolizing bastard, and Crowley wanted some time with his human. 

Eddie didn't still didn't eat any grass, but he stared intensely at the ducks and seemed to have a nice time. 

Crowley began to think that, maybe, they had once again narrowly avoided disaster, although by no action or particular competence on their part. 

Then.... the twins came back hopping through the mirror in matching patchwork skirts that looked like they'd been sewn together in the dark. Helena trailed behind them smiling down at them fondly. 

Though Crowley had missed them, he thought that maybe it had been good for Helena and the twins to spend some quality time together after the whole "Mama" incident. 

Edgar and Ellen came bearing gifts. 

A plant for Crowley. At least what looked like a plant... only with disturbingly human teeth. Eddie was gifted with a black, oddly scaly, plush animal (what kind of animal it might be was anyone's guess) with huge black marble eyes that seemed to reflect a horrifically distorted version of whatever poor soul happened to be gazing into them. Aziraphale and Gregor got some books with very odd titles. Jack got several bolts of horrific, eye-searingly ugly fabric. They even presented Ligur with a peculiar, jagged looking-knife. Hastur's gift however was the most... interesting of all. 

It was a doll. Of a sort. It had mismatched porcelain hands and feet, and a green dress with black lace trim. Its head was what Crowley suspected was a large taxidermy toad head. Its skin looked waxy and the thing stared at Hastur with lifeless glassy eyes as the twins held it out to the demon. 

"We thought it might be nice if you could play dolls with us and Eddie and Crowley!" "But we know you don't like dolls" "you like frogs " "So we made you a frog doll!" 

Crowley grimaced. Hastur was rather protective over his fellow amphibians, and he expected a toady tantrum seeing as how Edgar and Ellen were currently presenting him with a mutilated toad corpse as a toy. 

But the tantrum never came. Hastur just grunted (happily? Crowley thought. He wasn't particularly fluent in Toad grunting.) and hugged the toad doll to his chest. 

Crowley let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and snuggled up to his angel, speculating on what his new toothy plant might eat. 

And everything was alright, right up until it wasn't.


	311. Chapter 311

Eddie woke up to another nose bleed. Hastur squawked and grunted and flailed about, obviously upset. But Eddie felt nothing as he stared at the rivulets of blood dripping down his face and staining the blankets. 

"Sorry" he said blankly. Jack stared at him, not quite knowing what to do and Hastur continued making weird toad noises. 

He calmly got up and walked past Ligur, who, from a chair in the corner, kept watch over them as they slept, and went to find Aziraphale. 

He had begun to feel more and more removed from things, sometimes as if it wasn't him doing things like reaching out to touch one of the twins’ curls or shoving a raw hunk of chicken into his mouth when no one was looking. Then, the feeling would pass and he, Eddie, would be back. 

It wasn't bad really. It was in fact quite nice. No fear. No anxiety. Eddie could definitely live like this. He hoped he would. He hoped this was all just part of the process of becoming more like his family. And that.... that was exactly what he wanted. So he gave in. 

He spent more and more time in the mirror realm now. He felt more... At home there. Presently he was sitting with Helena working on his black mirror scrying as she stirred some sort of sickly pale green goo over a Bunsen burner. 

She reached out a slender hand to ruffle his hair. "Do you see anything, sweetie?" 

Eddie nodded. 

Helena, sensing he didn't want to elaborate, didn't press further. 

Eddie hadn't told Helena that the only thing he could ever see in the mirror anymore was Mama's featureless face, and he didn't intend to bother Helena with that. It didn't seem much of consequence anyhow. 

Eddie looked up at her, "Where did you go when you and the twins were away for so long? " 

Helena shrugged. "Oh, we just wandered here and there, wherever we thought that something interesting might be. I did so enjoy spending some time with my babies. But," she leaned over to kiss the crown of Eddie's head. "It's nice to be home now." 

Something about Helena calling it "home" or maybe it was her calling the twins "my babies" made Eddie irrationally angry and, before he knew exactly what was happening, he had his teeth sunk into Helena's arm. 

He quickly released his bite and sat back down. He spit out the chunk of flesh he had torn away into his hand. It felt lighter than it should have in his mouth and tasted like nothing. He watched as the skin seemed to rot before his eyes, turning to dust in the palm of his hand. 

He looked at Helena to see what was happening to her, half afraid that she too would turn to dust and blow away. The wound on her arm looked the way you would expect such a wound to look on a human. But the skin seemed to creep in around the edges eventually completely knitting together. 

Helena frowned down at her arm, then up at Eddie. "That isn't like you, sweetheart. Is something wrong? " 

Eddie looked down at the pile of greyish brown dust in his hands. "I'm sorry" he said quietly. 

Helena looked at Eddie appraisingly. "If I did something that upset you… " 

"No... I just...." Eddie looked up at Helena. "I'm sorry." And he stood, letting the dust fall out of his hands and ran from the room. 

He locked himself in his nursery and wrapped himself up in his weighted blanket, suddenly quite afraid of who he was becoming. Would mirror wraith Eddie be less like the twins and his Mommy and more like Mama? Feral and angry? 

A drop of red hit one of the white squares of his blanket. Eddie stared at it. Then another drop joined the first, and Eddie slowly brought up his hand to his nose, trying to stem the steady flow of blood that was now dripping from it.


	312. Chapter 312

Crowley hated to admit it. In fact, admitting it was rather… painful… but he agreed with Hastur. (G.... Sa... Someone help him!) The stupid little toad was currently toad-sitting on the foot of his and Aziraphale's bed, staring at him with his stupid, beady toad eyes. 

"He pushed me offffff!" Hastur whined, as he had been doing for the past half hour. Last night Eddie had shoved him off the bed, using rather considerable force; Hastur had been sent the into the air to smack into the wall and slide down. Eddie had then proceeded to sleepwalk, or, more accurately, sleep skulk, about all night. The twins had woken up to find Eddie perched on the railing of their crib watching them sleep, and because they were absolute weirdos who were disturbed by absolutely nothing, were delighted to see him. 

Hastur had taken great offence at Eddie’s toad flinging behavior and had been sulking ever since. It didn't help that Eddie seemed to have lost interest in both of the Little demons utterly and completely. Now the human regarded them with almost... annoyance. As if he found them somewhat inconvenient. 

Eddie's newfound disinterest didn't sit well with either demon, and, for once, they were on the same side. And so... Hastur and Crowley sat on the bed commiserating with one another. 

Crowley flopped back into Aziraphale's ridiculously large pile of pillows "Maybe, Eddie wassssss tired of you peeing on him every night." 

Hastur let out one of his weird toad-screams and jumped onto Crowley. The demon let out a great huff of air as Hastur wiggled on top of him, looking triumphant. 

Crowley rather thought that Hastur needed to be reminded who was above him on the food chain. So he made himself into a sizable black and red snake and began to wrap himself around the toad demon constricting tightly as he went. Suddenly he realized that his coils were clenching around nothing. 

He peeked into the empty spot where Hastur had been and found a fat toad that promptly flicked out its tongue into his eye. Crowley reared back and the toad hopped away. 

Obviously, Crowley followed. It had been a long time since he'd had a good hunt. 

Before they were through, they had managed to knock all the pillows and plushies off the bed, break Aziraphale's favorite lamp, and tear the curtains off their rod. What finally brought Aziraphale running (Ligur following closely behind) was the entire bookshelf they managed to knock over. 

The angel stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at the rather guilty looking snake and defiant toad frozen in the middle of the wreckage of what was once his room. "And what exactly, " he said. "Is going on here?"

The toad and snake looked at each other. "Playing" the toad finally croaked out. 

Crowley nodded his little snake head fervently. "That'sssss right! We were playing!" 

"Oh, were you?" The angel didn't look particularly convinced. "If you two can't play nicely…" Aziraphale began. 

"We were!" Crowley whined. "We'll clean it up annnnnngeeeellll. " 

His co-conspiriting toad glared at him. 

"I'll watch them, if you would like to return to your cooking" Ligur said quietly. 

Aziraphale nodded, then turned back to Crowley and Hastur. "This better be cleaned up by the time dinner is ready." He sniffed, and he turned to go back to his cooking. 

Ligur leaned down to scoop up his naughty little toad. "This is not our home, Hastur, you should try to... Destroy it a little less." 

Hastur squawked. Demons were supposed to destroy things. It was in their nature, and trying to stop a demon from causing wanton destruction, thought Hastur, was obvious and heinous demon abuse! 

Two things then happened in quick succession, the room was returned to its original, un- demolished, state, and Ligur felt the familiar sensation of being peed on. 

"I think," said Ligur, watching the toad piddle run down his hands and drip onto the floor. "That you could use a nap." 

Hastur gave an angry grunt and hopped out of Ligur's hands, onto the bed, and then over to the snake curled up there. He hopped onto the pile of snake now looking at him curiously and wiggled down in the rope of coils until only his little toady eyes were visible, glaring at Ligur. 

Ligur put his hands up in the customary gesture of surrender. "Fine, " he shrugged, and went to sit in a nice unobtrusive chair in the corner where he could watch his sulking little toad. 

Hastur was only curled up with Crowley to make a point to that traitorous Ligur, or so he told himself. Crowley wasn't quite as intolerable as Hastur had once thought, but he was still a smarmy flash bastard. He wore sequins for Satan's sake! But.... His scales were pleasantly cool and he wasn't so terrible when he wasn't talking. So, Hastur snuggled down and went to sleep. Because he wanted to.... Not, it was important to note, because Ligur told him to.


	313. Chapter 313

Eddie woke up with a start. The lights flickered on and off around him. He glanced around the room curiously. Was....was he doing that?  
The lights slowly stopped their flickering and Eddie turned his attention down to the hard object he felt lying in bed next to him. It was a mirror, medium sized, the kind you could set on a vanity table. It was made of ugly yellowed Bakelite and someone had hand painted little red tulips around the part of the Bakelite that held the mirror. 

He stared into it, because that's what one did with a mirror. At first, he saw only his face. Then it morphed into the now familiar face of Mama. Then she faded away and, in her place, there was a room. Eddie recognized it as a room in the mirror realm full of various seemingly random objects covered in a thick layer of dust. He peered harder at the objects, trying to make out what any of them were, and, quite inadvertently, he noticed something significant about the room. There were no doors. 

There were always doors in the mirror realm. Sometimes they were in a slightly different spot than you had left them, and sometimes there were in completely absurd places, like on the ceiling, or half way up the wall, but they were always there. 

Eddie searched around the room trying to spot the doors he knew should be there, but his search was cut short by footsteps coming down the hall and Jack quietly calling out "knock-y knock-y. Are you awake, baby? Your lights are on." 

Eddie quickly shoved the mirror under one of his pillows, piling on a couple stuffed animals just for good measure. Jack mustn't see the mirror. Though. he didn't know why. 

"I'm awake, Mommy. Come in, " he called back to Jack. 

Jack came in in ugly brown and orange stripped pajamas, grinning his permanent grin. 

Jack bent down over Eddie's crib." How's my baby?" He asked gently as he stroked the side of Eddie's face with one long finger. 

"A bit tired." he said. That was true enough. Eddie was almost always tired these days. 

Jack brought out a floral handkerchief to swipe at Eddie's nose. When he brought the handkerchief away it was stained red. Eddie hadn't even known that his nose had been bleeding. 

"How about a bit more sleep then?" Jack looked down at Eddie with such tender fondness, it made Eddie ache a bit inside. "But maybe a nice clean diaper first? " 

Eddie nodded, and Jack scooped him up and laid him out on the changing table. Eddie was surprised to find that he'd messed his diaper as well, just a bit, but still.... Though the unintentional messing didn't disturb him nearly as much this time. Maybe he was just tired, but after the initial surprise he just laid back and closed his eyes as his mommy took care of him. 

Jack lovingly tucked Eddie back into his crib, fluffing his pillows, and winding his mobile, and making certain he had a plushie to cuddle. Jack stroked his hair. "Do you want me to sleep with you baby? " 

Eddie shook his head before he even knew what he was doing. "No mommy.... I'm alright." 

Jack didn't frown, (Eddie wasn't entirely certain that Jack could frown, or even contort his face into any expression that wasn't a large, slightly unnerving grin) but he seemed a bit sad at this news. Though he only smiled and said "alright baby. I'll be in my room if you need me." He then kissed Eddie on the forehead, and took his leave, pausing at the door to stare at his Little human snuggled sleepily in his bed for a long moment. 

Eddie soon drifted off to sleep, and when he woke up, he found the mirror gone.


	314. Chapter 314

"It really is alright, darling. " Aziraphale told the snake who was curled up on the bed, hiding his eyes and little snoot under his tail in embarrassment. 

Hastur and Crowley had both wet while they napped. (Though in Crowley's case it had been more like excreting a semi-solid whitish substance than peeing). Hastur seemed quite satisfied and even smug to have so thoroughly soiled Aziraphale's nice blush pink duvet with toady piddle; Crowley, however, seemed quite ashamed. Aziraphale had really hoped they'd be over this by now, but, well, most things had to be worked at, didn't they? 

So Ligur had taken his naughty toad off for a bath and Aziraphale was left to comfort his blushing little reptile. He miracled away the mess and reached out to stoke a smooth coil. "Darling. Don't be shy. Really, I've seen you excrete as a snake before. " 

Crowley's head shot up and his little yellow eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "Nooooo you haven'tttttt! " he hissed 

Aziraphale blinked "Yes I have, dear. There was that time in... " but Aziraphale never got to finish because he was interrupted by Crowley hissing defensively. "I wassssss disssscreet!" 

Aziraphale could use a lot of words to describe Crowley. Stylish, clever, (it should be noted that Aziraphale was the only entity in existence that would ever use that particular word to describe the demon) darling, mischievous, kind, adorable, soppy, dramatic, and just a bit devilish to name a few, but discreet? Discreet wasn't a term that Aziraphale would have picked. But, as his demon was also a bit on the sensitive side, he just smiled and said "of course, you were, dear! Very discreet! Very discreet indeed! I just happened to see... purely by chance. " 

Crowley grumbled, but seemed somewhat placated. "Ssssssorry," he huffed, placing his head down on a coil. 

"Whatever for, dear?" 

"Making a messsssss" Crowley snaked around his starry bear looking rather resigned. 

Aziraphale really had thought they were over this. Crowley hardly ever made messes, mostly because Aziraphale had perfected the art of diapering his little demon... And oh... that was it, wasn't it? 

Crowley didn't like to make messes. For thousands of years he hadn't had anything but wretched experiences with his tendency to wet himself. Diapers had come to provide Crowley with a level of safety and comfort he had never had before and when he was a snake he no longer had on a diaper, and therefore, no longer had that safety and comfort. 

"Crowley, " Aziraphale began, sitting on the bed and holding out his arms for his dearest snake to slither into. "Would you feel better if you could wear a diaper when you we're a snake? " 

"Angel." Crowley deadpanned. "They don't make sssssnake diapersssss. " 

Aziraphale couldn't see, as Crowley was slithering up his sweater, but he rather suspected that Crowley was rolling his eyes. 

"Yes, I know that, dear, but if they did, would you like them? Would it make you... More comfortable?" 

Crowley poked his head up through Aziraphale's collar. "Maybe. Ssssssometimes. Like... For napssss and thingssss. " Then he hid his face in Aziraphale's hair. 

The angel stroked his beloved's scales as he walked out to the sitting room. No one had, as yet, made snake diapers, but if it would make his beautiful demon more comfortable, then Aziraphale would be the first. Maybe he could make a few snake sweaters as well while he was at it. Crowley would look ever so handsome in them, and Aziraphale was certain he had a few knitting books lying about. 

He curled up on the sofa, Crowley still wrapped around him. The demon picked out a book from the pile of books to read Aziraphale kept stacked on the end table. The Angel opened to the first page of The Crane Maiden and began to read. 

They were on the fifth page when Ligur and Hastur emerged from the bathroom. Aziraphale was somewhat amused to see that Ligur had beaten him to the execution of his idea, judging by the very unhappy toad in Ligur's hands wearing a small, toad-sized diaper and looking quite murderous. 

Aziraphale hid a smile behind his hand as Hastur angrily hopped out of Ligur's grasp, and over to Aziraphale, sitting against his side as he read aloud about the Crane Maiden, occasionally throwing death glares at Ligur. 

Aziraphale hoped that his attempt to diaper a cold-blooded demon would go better for him than it had for poor Ligur.


	315. Chapter 315

"Helena?" 

Helena closed the small clam shell compact she'd been holding and tilted her head curiously at the human standing in front of her. "Yes, sweetie? " 

"I... I know that, um, mirrors can connect the uh.... human world and the mirror world, but uh… can mirrors connect different parts of the mirror world? " 

"What a clever question, sweetheart! They can. " She stood, placing the little mirror into one of the pockets in her skirts. She placed a thin hand on Eddie's shoulder, which, for some reason, made him shudder slightly with revulsion. "Why don't I show you something?" 

Eddie followed Helena to a dark green door with a heavy padlock on it, that Eddie recognized though he wasn't quite sure why. He was sure he'd never been through it before. He had seen enough horror films to know to leave locked doors well alone. 

He sucked his thumb as he looked around the dimly lit room Helena had led him into. It was covered in mirrors of all different shapes and sizes, they hung on the walls over peeling red wall paper; they sat on every available surface including the floor. For a second, he saw a hundred grotesque, distorted, reflections of Mama staring back out at him from the dark depths of each mirror. Then he blinked, and she was gone; the mirrors now just hazily reflected his own face. 

"Go look in one," Helena suggested. 

So, Eddie did. He chose a large mirror with an ornate, swirling metal frame. He saw at first only his own refection. He looked... really tired. Pale and drawn.... And had his eyes always been sunken so far down into their sockets? Then his reflection faded, giving way to a room with pale blue walls filled with what looked to be paintings leaning haphazardly against the walls. He leaned closer to the mirror, his nose almost touching the glass, trying to make out what was painted on one of the canvases. A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him before he got a good look at the swirling mass of painted colors. 

"Don't lean in too far, sweetie. " 

Eddie turned around to look at the mirror wraith. 

"I connected all these mirrors to various rooms within our world. Things tend to move here, as I'm sure you know. So, when I'm out of our little corner of the realm and find a room that I think I might like to come back to, I connect it to a mirror. It really does make travel terribly more convenient than it had been. 

She paused; looking as if she was hesitating, she placed a hand in his hair, then withdrew when she felt him shudder once more. "I don't wish to discourage you from whatever you wish to do. However, I do wish that you wouldn't ever go through one of these mirrors alone. Once a human goes deep into our world, it is.... extremely difficult.... for them to get out." 

Eddie nodded. "I won't... But... I can look in them, right? " He felt the need to look in them, a strong unyielding pull somewhere in the region of his chest. 

"Of course, sweetheart. There is one over here you might enjoy." 

She showed him an oval looking-glass that showed him a dusty sitting room with several glowing orbs darting about, seemingly playing some sort of game of tag. Helena led him around the room suggesting mirrors that might interest him. There was a wooden one with a tall black top hat in a room that would disappear and reappear in random places. A pink plastic mirror that looked like it had come from a child's vanity set that held a room with a large glob of pulsing, translucent flesh (with alarmingly visible, beating organs inside it) plopped in the middle. 

They were all very interesting, but Eddie found himself drawn to a shelf in the comer of the room. He looked at the mirrors there feeling as if he was searching for something, yet not quite knowing what. Then he saw it. The Bakelite mirror that had been in his room. He wondered if it had just moved from his nursery to here, as things tended to do in the mirror realm, or if he.... he had put it there himself, and not remembered. 

This mirror was important though. More important that all the others. He knew that, though he was certain that no one had ever said out loud to him "this mirror is important" He also felt very strongly that he was supposed to do something with it, though he didn't know what. 

Helena came up behind him, though this time she didn't place a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't we go find your mommy, so you can have a diaper change and something to eat, hmmm?" 

Eddie blinked away the haze that had filled his mind. "Ummmm ya... Sure." 

He glanced back at the mirror while he followed Helena out of the room. 

"Can I come back here? " Eddie asked. "I uhhh... really like looking in the mirrors. " 

Helena paused and spared a glance back at Eddie. She smiled softly, "Of course, dear, anytime. Anytime at all. "


	316. Chapter 316

"Hold still, dear" Aziraphale reprimanded his wiggling snake. After several days of experimentation Aziraphale thought he had come up with a quite functioning and dare he say, stylish snake diaper. 

It consisted of an absorbent padded bit that would go under Crowley's err.... excretory hole, and a thin, yet durable (for slithering purposes) bit of plastic, much like the side bits of a human diaper that was to be wound around the snake and taped snugly. 

In addition to the diaper his serpent was now clad in, Aziraphale had attired his demon in a smart looking grey sweater with little sparkly flecks that shimmered and reflected in the light, casting tiny rainbows on Crowley's scales. 

"How is that, dear?" Aziraphale asked looking down quite proudly at his handy work. 

Crowley gave an experimental wiggle. "Niccsssssssse angel. Cossssssssy. Sssssssssssoft." 

Aziraphale was thrilled. He felt the surge of warmth and contentment he always felt when he was able to take care of his Little demon. Crowley brought his face close to the angel's and flicked out his tongue tickling Aziraphale's cheek. "Thanksssssss" 

The angel smiled, and gave the soft scales under Crowley's chin a scritch. "Of course, dear, you're very welcome. I'm so glad you like it, certainly better than Hastur likes his at any rate." Aziraphale huffed out a laugh. 

Crowley rubbed his snaky face up against Aziraphale’s cheek, enjoying the feel of soft warm angel skin under his scales. "He'ssssss been a right basssstard lately."

The past few days Hastur had been in a terrible mood. He had never changed back to his human form and had instead spent this time as a very, very irritable toad. Hiding in darkened corners and sulking, throwing a toady tantrum whenever Ligur dragged him out to change him or attempt to feed him. 

"I think he rather misses Gregor, Jack, Eddie, and the twins. Poor dear. (Crowley snorted) He's just gotten acclimated to all the upheaval in his life, made friends, found someone else who cares for him as much as Ligur, then.. suddenly it's all gone. Well... " Aziraphale paused. "Not gone really, but certainly not around as much as they used to be." 

Crowley tried to frown, and then remembered he was currently a snake. What Aziraphale said was true enough. Eddie spent almost all his time in the mirror realm, with the twins, Jack, and Helena, and Gregor had been holed up looking through his endless stacks of books for some reference to humans in the mirror realm. He missed the mirror wraiths and his special human friend as well. He supposed he had that in common with Hastur. (Crowley was only just grudgingly coming to accept that he may have a few very, very, very small things in common with the toady bastard.) 

"Oh, I do imagine that this has affected you terribly as well " the angel continued "but I am quite impressed with how well you've been taking everything. But you do know, if you need to errm... Do... or say anything... Well you needn't hold it in dear. I'm always here for you." 

"I know, angel" Crowley wrapped himself around Aziraphale's neck, laying his head down on one of his own coils "It's alright. If I'm upset, I'll just yell at my plantsssssss.... " 

Crowley head shot up, and he hissed happily. He had an idea. 

That evening, when he was significantly more human shaped, he found Hastur and caught the toad by surprise. 

The demon fought him tooth and nail grunting and wiggling and aggressively peeing until Crowley finally got him to their destination, closed the door and let the toad down. As soon as Hastur was on the floor he began to transform. A now much more human-ish Hastur, who looked quite ready to fight him, swore at Crowley "What the fuck you bastard! " 

"I just thought," Crowley said, smiling a fanged smile. "That you might like to help me take care of my plants tonight." 

Hastur looked a bit like he was going to explode. "I.... You... Bastard... Plants.... " 

Crowley sauntered around the room where the majority of his collection of flora was housed and, with a smile, showed Hastur exactly how he took care of his plants. 

Hastur seemed to enjoy Crowley's take on horticulture, and was, in fact, quite good at it. When Aziraphale and Ligur came to check on their respective demons, they found them both happily intimidating Crowley's poor plants. 

Aziraphale sighed. He'd somewhat hoped that his dear demon's plant abuse had abated since coming to live in the bookshop. However, he thought it was good for Hastur to have an outlet for his frustrations, and it was nice to see both Little demons getting along so well. He supposed that, just this once, he wouldn't admonish Crowley for his mistreatment of his greenery. He'd just be certain to give the plants some extra love and attention when the two had finished. 

Aziraphale sighed as he watched his dear. In his own odd little demon-y way, the angel thought, Crowley really was very kind. 


	317. Chapter 317

The twins curled around Eddie as they napped, but he wiggled out of their grasps and climbed over the crib railing. He padded through their room, not bothering to avoid stepping on the clothes and blankets and various toys that were spread across the floor. 

His socked foot came down on a one-eyed rubber doll that cried out "Mama! Mama! Mama! " Eddie looked down at it disdainfully and kicked it away. The thing hit a pile of clothes still squawking "Mama!" 

Eddie made his way to the door, opening and closing it relatively quietly so as not to disturb Edgar and Ellen. He padded his way down the hall and found the sitting room, which was definitely not where he had left it last. For a while he just stood in the doorway, listening to Jack and Helena talk. 

Jack noticed him first, and twisted his long body around in a very, very uncomfortable looking position so that he could look at Eddie. He spread out his arms. "Baby! Baby! I thought you were napping with the twins? " 

"I couldn't sleep. " 

"Well why don't you come here then, baby Eddie?" Jack writhed around until he was sitting upright, or at least more upright than he had been. 

Eddie complied, and went to sit on Jack's lap. Jack absentmindedly wiped away at the blood that had accumulated under Eddie's nose with a bright purple handkerchief. After getting comfortable, Jack and Helena continued their conversation. Eventually, the topic came to Gregor and how his research was progressing. Eddie tugged on Jack's frilly sleeve. "Mommy, why don't you go down and see Gregor? He's been down there by himself for a long time now." 

"That's a lovey idea, Eddie. " Jack smooshed his own cheek against Eddies as he hugged him closer. "Maybe I'll take him down something nice to eat." He made to get up, but then sat back down, Eddie still on his lap. "Maybe I should wait. Would you be alright without me?" 

Eddie looked at him blankly for a moment. Then blinked a few times rapidly and seemed to come back to himself, he nodded quite seriously. "I'll be fine, Mommy. I have Helena, don't I? And I wanted to watch the mirrors anyway." 

"Alright, baby if you're sure. You don't want a bottle or need a diaper change or anything? " 

"I'm sure" Eddie replied, "I'm fine" and Jack gave him one last kiss on the cheek before he got up, set Eddie on the chair he had been occupying, and trotted off towards the kitchen humming something terribly off key. 

Helena stared at Eddie. 

Eddie stared at Helena. 

"Would you like me to unlock the door for you, or would you just like for me to give you the key, sweetie?" 

"The key is fine." Eddie held out his hand. 

Helena took hold of one of the many chains around her neck, following it down to the large skeleton key that hung on it. She unclasped the chain, and let the key fall into her outstretched hand. 

She handed it over to Eddie, hesitating a moment before dropping it into Eddie's hand. 

Eddie smiled at her, said a polite "thank you," and got up to walk out the door. 

Helena called out to him "Eddie, sweetheart, remember to lock the door when you’re finished. If something did, by happenstance, come through one of the mirrors, we wouldn't want it running amuck in our home, would we?" 

Eddie tilted his head to the side, staring curiously at Helena. "No, " he said after a moment, and there was a smile in his voice that wasn't on his face. "No, we wouldn't"


	318. Chapter 318

Eddie looked around the room with the mirrors. He didn't remember coming here, but that wasn't entirely unusual these days. 

He shifted in his seat. His diaper was definitely wet, and, he rather suspected, a little messy. He wrinkled his nose at that. He wanted his Mummy. He wondered where Jack was. And yet.... And yet.... he really felt as if he should stay here. 

The Bakelite mirror sat in front of him. He could see it out of the corner of his eye as he strained to look anywhere else but at it. He shoved his thumb into his mouth. He wanted his paci, or at least a plushie to hold. He tried to get up, to do anything but sit here in this room and try not to stare into a Bakelite mirror, which was proving to be far more ominous than anything covered in tulips ought to be. 

He couldn't though, no matter how hard he tried. His limbs felt like there were made of cement. He gathered all of his strength and with one great show of effort tried to lift himself off the floor. 

He landed back down with a thud, his diaper squishing unpleasantly under him. He panted, exhausted with the effort. He really wanted his Mommy. 

With great effort, he turned his head towards the door. He hoped that Jack, Helena, somebody would come through and save him. 

He felt his head being pulled towards the mirror. He struggled against it, feeling the muscles in his neck strain. He tried to choose something to focus on, thinking that might help. He settled on his black sweatpants, tracing the word 'Gremlins' over and over again with his eyes. He memorized the little picture of Gizmo that was placed over the words, and when that was no longer working, he tried to remember the entire film from start to finish. His neck hurt terribly. The burning sensation he was feeling in his neck had crept its way upwards and had arrived in his head to settle into a throbbing headache. 

Eddie's eyes began to water from the pain. He really wanted his Mommy. 

His head turned a few inches towards the mirror without his permission. 

He just knew that if he looked in the mirror something awful would happen. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as his head kept inching further and further towards the mirror no matter how hard he fought. 

He was facing the mirror now. He couldn't see.... But he knew. 

His eyes were beginning to burn. The only relief would be to open them, something deep in his brain whispered.... He was so tired.... So very tired... 

He tried squeezing them tighter still. His eyelids began to raise anyway, so Eddie rolled up his eyes into his skull so he wouldn't be looking at the mirror. But he couldn't maintain it. His eyes eventually drifted downwards to the glass. 

The room in the mirror was unchanged. He stared into it as he had so many times before. 

And then he saw it, a growing shadow in the corner. A small black smudge that flexed and elongated until it had stretched into a familiar form. Mama stood there, staring at him without eyes, screaming at him without a mouth. 

He shoved his hands over his ears as the shrieking grew louder, trying to stop it from permeating his skull. 

Mama just howled louder, and faster than Eddie's brain could really comprehend, Mama scurried up the wall and across the ceiling and down to where the adjoining mirror in that room must have sat or hung. Her empty face was almost pressed against the glass now. Still screaming. 

Only she wasn't, Eddie realized, cold dread running down his spine. It wasn't her that was screaming. It was him. The sound was reverberating in his chest, and escaping out of his open mouth in a twisted guttural howl . 

Maybe, he thought, maybe it had always been him screaming.


	319. Chapter 319

Helena had suspicions. Suspicions involving Eddie. She rather thought that something outside of their home was making contact with Eddie through the mirrors. Calling to him, and drawing him to that room so very often. Eddie might not even realize it. Memories were such fragile things here and so very easy for the creatures here to warp and change or even shatter entirely. 

She didn't know what it was exactly that had gotten its claws (metaphorical or otherwise) into Eddie, but she knew what she hoped it wasn't. 

If Mama was trying to come back, Helena had every intention of stopping her. Maybe it would be a betrayal to the twins. Actually...... it definitely would be a betrayal to the twins.... But, Helena.... Helena would protect what she loved at all costs. Even if that meant a teensy bit of betrayal. 

She looked down at her gloved hands, gloves that the twins had drawn little screaming faces on in permanent ink, then to the concoction she was mixing. Terribly repellent to mirror wraiths. Made you fade in and out of existence like static on a radio. Quite unpleasant. Theoretically if you came into contact with enough of it, you would blink out of existence all together and maybe never come back. 

Helena wondered if she could do it, if that's what it came down to. Just make Mama disappear. Forever. She'd never come back to hurt the twins again. Never try to take them away… 

The answer Helena knew, was yes. Unequivocally yes. Helena wanted Mama gone. She had always considered herself to be a quite reasonable mirror wraith, all things considered. But the presence of Mama made her lose that rationality. 

She poured the mixture into a spray bottle that she had nicked from Crowley, one he used to mist his plants. 

If she was honest herself, and she did try to be, this wasn't to protect the twins. It was to protect herself. She couldn't do this again. Not so soon after the last time, maybe in a few hundred years.... But not now. 

She would just make Mama, if indeed this was Mama, go away for a little longer... not forever. Even though there was a part of her mind that burned with the longing to erase Mama from existence. 

She quickly undressed, divesting herself with practiced ease of layers and layers of colored fabrics. Once she was naked, she began rubbing herself down another layer of the paste which would help offset her own reaction to the contents of the spray bottle. 

She redressed, and as she was placing one long arm through a floral sleeve, she knocked an object off the table. 

She bent to retrieve it. It was Eddie's black brimmed cap, with the word Horror written on it in bright green dripping letters. Eddie had taken it off when he had been helping her clean her many mixing pots and jars and spoons. She traced the H fondly with one long dark finger. If it was Mama, if she was hurting Eddie, surely the twins would understand. 

She placed the hat back down, and slipped the spray bottle into the outermost pocket of her dress. She stood outside the door and closed her eyes and listened. She could, she supposed, just go in without knocking. The door didn't lock from the inside, she could take Eddie and whatever may be in there with him by surprise. But.... she couldn't. She needed a.... justification to do this.... To go in there. She couldn't just take control of everyone's lives and choices, even if that's what she thought was best. That would go against every philosophy she had built her life and her home and her family upon. 

In the end, she did have to wait for long. A grotesque, tormented scream reverberated through the halls. 

She lunged forward and flung the door open so hard several mirrors fell from the walls and shattered. 

Eddie was seated in front of a yellowish Bakelite mirror. He was crying and sobbing hysterically, yet still half screaming through his tears. 

She wrapped him up in her arms as he dripped snot and tears and screamed into her shoulder. "Sweetheart, sweetheart, " she said calmly but urgently, stroking his hair. "What happened?" 

He calmed. Stilling in her arms, then looked up at her with big watery blue eyes rimmed in red. He pointed a shaky finger towards the mirror and said one word that made the blood she was pretty sure she had, run cold: "Mama" 

"In there? "

Eddie nodded. "In the m... M... Mirror. " 

"Why don't you go an find your Mommy, baby? Can you do that?" 

Eddie nodded and she pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. Then, hand on the spray bottle, she flung herself into the mirror.


	320. Chapter 320

It had been a lovely day. The sun had been shining Aziraphale and Ligur had taken Hastur and Crowley out to the park. They had gotten a few odd glances pushing a pram with a large snake and toad in it, but, well, Aziraphale had always garnered odd glances, and Ligur just glared daggers at the curious humans until they scurried off, eyes on the sidewalk, full of some sort of deep instinctual dread. 

Aziraphale and Ligur sat on the bench, divested their respective cold-blooded companions of their diapers and in Crowley's case, sweater, and let them slither and hop away to torment the ducks, naked and free. 

"Oh I really am glad that this has worked out. I… well, I did push Crowley to let Hastur stay. He was a bit hesitant, you know, after Hastur, errr.... " The angel waved a hand about looking for a diplomatic way to phrase it. 

"Kidnapped and attempted to discorporate the demon Crowley?" 

"Yes, " said Aziraphale. "That. If this had gone wrong. Well it would have been all my fault and... " 

"But it did not. " said Ligur. "There is no use dwelling in the past. We cannot change what is done. And I, for one am very... Pleased that things happened as they did. " Ligur paused to look out at Hastur who was attempting to hop on to the back of a very annoyed looking duck. "I have never seen my little Toad like this before. So... unencumbered... And content. " 

Aziraphale smiled, and reached over to hesitantly place a well-manicured hand on Ligur's arm. “A friend of mine, Victor his name was, once said that every plant found in nature could grow and flourish if planted in the place and given the right care. He was talking about people as much as plants, of course. Rather heavy handed with the analogies my dear Victor, but he did make his point in the end.... And I do think this is also applicable to angels and demons as well. " 

Ligur hummed. Aziraphale thought it might be in agreement, or Ligur was just humoring him, he wasn't entirely certain. 

Ligur barked out a laugh, and Aziraphale's attention was turned to the antics of Crowley and Hastur. They had apparently pissed off a goose, who was chasing the two demons around the park honking irately. Aziraphale tried not to laugh. 

Crowley and Hastur made it back to the bench and hid behind Aziraphale's and Ligur's legs. Aziraphale shooed the unhappy fowl away and looked down at the large snake and toad under the bench. "Are you quite alright, dears?" 

Crowley looked rather sheepish. "I'm fine angel, " the demon sniffed. "We were just playing. Obviously. 

"Obviously. " Aziraphale replied. 

They slithered and hopped out from under the bench, looking warily around for the murderous bird. Not seeing the foul fowl, they went back to their mischief, though this time they decided humans were a safer target than birds. 

Ligur laughed, and the angel tried to look disapproving as his demon terrorized innocent park-goers. However, if he did put the idea in the humans heads that animal control did not need to be called, well... That was entirely his business wasn't it? 

Once the two little terrors had tired of their mischief, they were tucked back into the pram and taken back home for a nice nap. Aziraphale had just finished tucking them in when a pair of identical heads popped through the mirror. 

"Have you seen Helena?" 

"No dears, why do you ask?" 

"We haven't seen her since our nap yesterday. " "She didn't tuck us in last night. " "And she always tucks us in. " 

Aziraphale furrowed his brow. 

"Eddie says she went out in the mirror realm to get something. " "But she didn't tell us, and she always tells us if she's going away. " "it's notI that we don't trust Eddie,. " one twin begain. "It's that we don't trust Eddie." The other finished. 

Aziraphale hummed contemplatively. Something certainly felt off about this. "Have you asked the other mirror wraiths? " 

The twins’ brow's furrowed. "We asked Jack." "Jack said not to worry... " "but we still think we should worry." The twins nodded resolutely. "We're going down to ask Gregor next." 

Aziraphale nodded, "Do come back and tell me what he says... If Gregor doesn't know where she is, why don't you come back here and we'll figure out what to do next." 

The twins nodded, and both lunged forward to squeeze Aziraphale about the soft middle, before heading back to the mirror. 

"Oh! Dears, if you could, would you mention to Gregor that Hastur, well... " Aziraphale gestured to the small mesh crib that held a sleeping snake and toad nestled in amongst a pile of blankets and plushies. " Hastur misses him terribly. " 

The twins scurried over to the crib and peered in. They then looked up at Aziraphale with wide eyes. Aziraphale had thought that they were surprised that Crowley and Hastur were now a large snake and toad respectively. Really, he should have known better by now. 

They looked at Aziraphale with their unsettling dead stares and said. "They're adorable!" 

The angel smiled. 

"We want to play with them, but they're sleeping now." "And we need to find Helena." "So we'll play with them later." 

Aziraphale couldn't help it; he hugged the twins to him. He closed his eyes and buried his face in their hair. He did hope that Helena had just stepped out for a moment and had lost track of the time that Aziraphale didn't think existed in the mirror realm, and yet, and yet.... something deep within him told him that was not the case.


	321. Chapter 321

Newt peeked his head into Anathema's study. "Do you ah... want dinner? " 

Anathema didn't bother to look away from the large tome she was reading. "Uh… yes?" She pushed her glasses back on her nose and blindly reached out an ink stained hand to find a pen in the chaos of her desk. 

"So, um... Pasta? Pizza? Curry? I could make stir fry?" Anathema nodded, but Newt rather suspected that she wasn't listening. "How about maggots in tomato sauce? Live sardines? Tarantulas on toast?"

Anathema flipped a page and frantically scribbled something into a notebook. "That sounds fine, Newt." 

Newt sighed. He loved Anathema: he really did. She was without doubt the coolest, most intelligent, most poised person he had ever met. However, Anathema didn't know how to relax. Newt could understand it, really, he could. Her entire life had been spent preparing for her prescripted part in the apocalypse that wasn't, and now that she no longer had that, she was rather lost. 

So, Anathema had been on the hunt for a new purpose. She had inundated herself in projects and research and experiments, hoping to find some sense of purpose once more. Yet, she still had found time (with some coaxing and encouragement from Newt) to hang out with the Them for a while, or go to Madam Tracy's and Sargent Shadwell's for tea. Newt had even occasionally hoped that they might even start to spend some time with the bookish angel who now seemed to have several adorable, albeit weird and somewhat frightening Littles hanging about. Newt wasn't a caregiver, but he liked Littles, and kind of secretly hoped to be the "cool uncle" one day. 

All in all, he had thought that they had been edging slowly towards a decent work - leisure balance. Until Aziraphale had called, and asked for Anathema's advice about Eddie. Ever since then, she had poured herself into searching for any reference, no matter how obscure, to a human living for any length of time in the mirror realm. 

Newt was having progressively more trouble prying her away from her work to do things like eat, or sleep, or bathe. 

He looked at the current state of his witch and sighed. She was wearing the same green dress she had worn the day before, and Newt suspected, the day before that. Her hair had come completely out of its usual half bun and was now hanging lankly around her face. 

He set a sandwich on the desk in front of her. "I uh.... brought you supper. " 

"Mmmmmhhhh" Anathema said, waving a hand in Newt's general direction. 

"Are you, um.... going to come to be coming the bed tonight?" 

Anathema shuffled around some paper and looked up at Newt for the first time in a long time. It let Newt see just how deep the dark circles under her eyes had gotten. 

"Newt, I'm very busy, I'll come to bed later. " 

Newt assumed ‘later’ would be ‘never’, and Anathema would just sleep face down in some ancient book again, but it seemed that Newt was quite wrong, Anathema would come to bed that night. Though she would not go there to sleep so much as shake Newt violently awake. 

"Newt! Newt! Newt! Wake up!" 

Newt, rather unhappy to be so violently woken up by his crazed lover, fumbled for his glasses to shove them on his face. "What? What is it?" 

"We have to go. Now! " she hissed in his face like a demented goblin. "I've already called Aziraphale." 

"Go…go where? " Newt glanced at the alarm clock. "It's five o'clock in the morning. " 

Anathema, who had been pawing through the dresser looking for something, turned and hissed at him. "I already told you! We're going to see Aziraphale. We're meeting at a cafe. Here. " She threw a bundle of clothes at his chest. "Get dressed. I'll be waiting for you at the door." And in a whirl of skirts, she left, leaving Newt standing in the bedroom in his Dr. Who pajamas holding a bundle of clothes, staring dumbly at the empty doorway.


	322. Chapter 322

The twins were irritated. They had conducted an exhaustive search of their part of the mirror realm, not particularly believing that she had gone away. Then they had searched every mirror in Helena's mirror room, since Eddie had been spending so much time there lately. Still nothing... And it was, put in the most diplomatic way possible, pissing the twins off. 

Aziraphale had coaxed them into the bookshop, given them a diaper change and a cuddle, promising them all the while that they would think of something to find Helena (all the while, having absolutely no idea whatsoever exactly what that something would be.) Then he tucked the twins on the sofa and began to do what the angel did best... fret. Though he had briefly paused his fretting to go answer a telephone call. 

Crowley was draped over one of the twins. Aziraphale had told him he made a very nice blankie, (Snake blanket.... Snaket? Crowley hissed a giggle to himself.) And he hoped he could help calm the twins, though he really didn't think it was working. The lights were still flickering on and off and the twin he was laying on felt very unsubstantial as they seemed to pulse, becoming more or less corporeal with every heartbeat. Crowley could feel the crackle of electricity in the air. It felt as if there was a storm coming. Had Crowley possessed any hairs in his current form, he was sure they'd be standing on end. 

Aziraphale walked into the room looking flustered. 

Crowley stuck his head up and hissed out. "Who wasssssss it angel?" 

"Anathema. She wanted to talk about something. About Eddie I think. Poor dear sounded terribly distressed. Oh... But maybe I should call her back? Not go? What with Helena being.... ahhh still unfound and all." 

The twins sat up, dislodging the snake and toad that had been lying on each twin respectively. They turned their heads father than Crowley thought that heads ought to be able to turn so that they could see Aziraphale, who was standing behind the sofa. 

"We want to see the witch, " they said in unison. 

Aziraphale blinked at the twins, rubbing the neck of his corporation in sympathy. "Certainly, if that's what you want, dears." 

Crowley stretched up as fat as his long body could go and swayed back and forth, which was as close as he could get in this form to a "pick me up! " gesture. "I'm coming too, angel!" 

"Of course, dear" 

Aziraphale picked up his dear little demon, letting the snake wind his way around the angel's neck, rubbing his little snaky head against the angel's cheek. 

"Will you two stay here? " Aziraphale nodded to Ligur and Hastur, "and well... Just watch over things?" 

Ligur nodded gravely, and Hastur gave an agreeing grunt from where he was perched on Ligur's lap. 

"Thank you, dears." Aziraphale fixed the demons with a terribly soft look, then he turned to the twins. "Oh Edgar, Ellen, darlings, before we go, maybe you could put on some pants? "


	323. Chapter 323

"What the absolute fuck. Is that a snake!? " Josh turned to Tomie, who looked mildly irritated that he was attempting to pull her attention from the glossy pages of her magazine. 

"Yep, " she said popping the "p" "that's a snake." Tomie affixed her dark eyes on the odd little group of customers that had just wandered into the coffee shop. (Artisan, of course, on Aziraphale's recommendation) "Do you think that they're all horribly fashion challenged or very avant-garde?" 

Josh rolled his eyes. "I have no idea. What's the difference anyway? " 

Tomie's rouged lips twisted into a pouty moue. "I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. 

Josh sighed and closed his eyes. He hated Tomie, and he hated morning shifts, and absolutely despised the two of them together. "So, which one of us is going to go over there and tell him that we don't allow pets?" 

"Not me." Tomie went back to her magazine, "I'm too pretty to die." 

"Well someone has to." 

Tomie looked up again. "Why? What's the snake going to do? Shed? Piss on the floor? It's wearing a diaper. " 

Josh gritted his teeth. "It'll scare the other customers. " 

Tomie stared up at him over the edge of her magazine. She glanced out at the almost empty coffee shop, and then raised one well-manicured eyebrow at Josh. "What other customers?" she deadpanned. 

Josh scowled, but said nothing. As much as he hated Tomie, she was often right, which might, in fact, be why he hated her. "Well one of us should go and take their order." None of the weirdos had come up to the counter yet, and for that Josh was quite grateful. 

Tomie produced a shiny coin out of her pocket. "Flip for it? " she asked. 

"Fine, but I call heads" 

It was tails, because of course it was. 

"Josh," said Tomie in a tone that almost sounded concerned. "Be very polite to them." 

Josh rolled his eyes. "Why? " 

"Look," said Tomie pointedly. "I come from Japan, where I learned the ancient wisdom of "don't piss off weird shit, it never ends well. " I, for one, would like to live to Friday. I have a modeling audition." 

"What're they going to do. It's just an old guy with a freaky pet and a couple of Littles. They're just people.... I mean really weird people, but people." 

"They're some sort of yoaki if I've ever seen them." Tomie peered suspiciously over at their unusual customers. 

Josh didn't bother to ask what a "yoaki" was; he had heard Tomie rattle on about shrines and spirits before. He believed absolutely none of it, and he certainly wasn't in the mood for any of her weird Eastern superstitions today. He just turned his back to her and tromped over to take the freakish group’s order. 

He came back with two sippy cups, a bottle and a look that one might accurately describe as "creeped out". 

"The twins move in sync." he begin slowly. "Like... perfect sync. It's disturbing. " He was talking to himself more than he was to Tomie. 

Josh shook himself and began to make the coffee orders. He made a hot chocolate with grotesque amounts of whipped cream, then filled up the two sippy cups with caramel latte, He frowned at the bottle as he poured milk in it. 

Tomie, who had helped with this process not at all, leaned over to watch him. "Is that for the snake? " 

"Don't be stupid. Snakes can't suck on things Tomie, you need a tongue to make a seal, and snakes have like, really skinny snake tongues. " 

Tomie looked unimpressed "Then who's it for?" 

"I don't know? One of the creepy Little twins? I guess?" 

Tomie eyed the two sippy cups. "It's for the snake. " 

"No. It. Isn't." 

"Fine", Tomie shrugged. " bet you fifty pounds it is." 

Josh smiled for the first time this morning. "You're on. " 

He collected all the cups and the bottle and brought them out to the table while Tomie watched from behind the counter, keeping as far away as possible from both the creepy twins and the huge snake, who was currently getting his scaly little chin scritched. 

He returned looking very unhappy. Tomie smiled. It was a sharp, wicked smile that exposed her small pointy canine teeth. "And who," she asked "was the bottle for? " though they both knew that she could very well see the table perfectly well from here. 

"The snake." Josh gritted out. "I'll get you your bloody fifty pounds tomorrow."

Tomie's smiled widened, as she flipped another page in her magazine. Maybe these were the type of yoaki that brought good fortune after all.


	324. Chapter 324

"I think Eddie is possessed, " Anathema said as she sat down. 

Aziraphale looked startled, as did Crowley who had forgotten to swallow and was now letting the milk pour down his chin. 

The twins, however, just nodded gravely as the overhead lights in the cafe began to flicker slightly. 

"We think so, too. " 

"What? " said Aziraphale, because that was more or less all he could think of to say. 

The twins both tilted their heads curiously to the left in unison. "Somethings been funny with Eddie for a while now; but we felt that Eddie hasn't been himself lately. " 

"And if he isn't himself anymore," the other twin took over, " then he must be someone else. And we decided the only someone else we think it could be is a mirror wraith." 

Anathema really wanted to argue with that logic, but she couldn't figure out how. 

"We think it's Mama, " said one of the twins, and the other turned to look that them sharply. "No, we don't." 

The cafe lights flickered almost imperceptibly overhead. 

"Who else could it be? " said the first twin. "We'd know if there was another mirror wraith around. " 

The second twin looked displeased at that. "Why would Mama be in Eddie? Why would she need to be in him when she could just be with us as herself? And anyway, another mirror wraith could have slipped into Eddie while he was outside the mirror realm." 

"Yes, but besides us and Helena, and Gregor, and Jack, Mama is the mirror wraith that Eddie has had most contact with. Remember how she just diasappered after he saw her? She could have just crawled inside Eddie and never left. " 

"Correlation doesn't mean causation." the second twin sniffed. "And you still didn't say why she would do it in the first place. " 

The second twin threw up their hands. "Then we don't know if it is or isn't." 

Crowley curled tightly around his angel and hid his snoot in the collar of Aziraphale's shirt. The twins were always together, in thought and action. Them disagreeing like this felt so terribly wrong. Crowley hated it. He wanted to go home so badly. He wanted to curl up on the sofa with Eddie and the twins and maybe even stupid Hastur and watch a pointless horror film that the twins would no doubt find unbearably funny. Then he wanted his soft, beautiful angel to give him a warm bubble bath. He wanted to play with his ever-growing army of rubber duckies and splash his angel who would pretend to pout and be cross, but Crowley would know he wasn't really. 

Then his angel would dry him off and slather him in lotions and powders and diaper him and dress him in soft pajamas. 

Then he would in turn dress his lovely angel for bed. He knew just the soft cream-colored cashmere nightshirt that he would dress Aziraphale in. All the better for snuggling soft angels. 

Finally, they would liy in bed and Crowley would wrap himself around his beautiful angel. Then Aziraphale would read to him, and he would be lost in the comforting ebb and flow of his Angel's voice knowing that all was well in his little corner of the universe. He was with his angel, Edgar and Ellen were with Helena, Eddie with Jack, and even stupid Hastur had the slightly less stupid Ligur and Gregor. 

But all was not well. Even with his head hidden under Aziraphale's collar, practicing his favorite problem-solving technique, -which was to ignore said problem and hope really hard that it went away- he could still hear the conversation going on around him. 

The trouble with his problem-solving practices, Crowley thought, was that problems seldom got better when you didn't do anything about them. In fact, the opposite frequently happened. 

"So, it's decided," said Anathema. "I'll gather the supplies. I'll need a couple of days." 

"Yes, yes, " Aziraphale mumbled and Crowley could feel his angel tense and worried under him. Crowley coiled tighter around him. 

"Um.... Maybe we should talk to Sargent Shadwell, I'm sure he knows something about exorcisms." Newt suggested. 

Anathema couldn't begin to guess what Sargent Shadwell knew about exorcisms, but she would bet a good few hundred pounds that the information was horribly wrong. However, she felt that that might need all the help that they could get. She placed a hand over Newt's on the table. "We'll talk to the Sargent, and Madame Tracy as well." (Anathema privately thought that of the two, Madame Tracy would be significantly more helpful.) 

The twins nodded gravely as the lights of the cafe flickered once more. Their pale blue eyes shined, bright and piercing even in the flashes of darkness. 

"It must be done," they said in perfect unison. 

And even though Crowley was wearing a lovely warm snake sweater knitted by his angel, he felt a violent chill run up his spine.


	325. Chapter 325

Jack didn't understand a lot of things, like what a liver did or what politics were, but he knew the important things. And currently the important thing he knew was that Eddie most certainly wasn't alright. 

Jack wasn't even certain if he was exactly Eddie anymore. Eddie certainly didn't seem like Eddie. He was doing very un-Eddie like things now-a-days. He no longer wanted cuddles from his Mummy, or ever really to spend any time at all with him. Eddie was constantly prowling the hallways of the mirror realm like he knew exactly where he was going. Often, he crawled on all fours and had taken to snarling and growling. Jack often found it quite difficult getting Eddie to eat or to stay still long enough for Jack to change him. 

Eddie was looking quite gaunt these days, he had acquired a sickly almost gray pallor, and the bones at his ckeeks and collar and wrists now protruded. 

Jack knew this was a thing that had happened gradually, and yet, he could not help but feel that he just looked as his Little Eddie one day and found him completely changed. 

And yet, no matter how difficult he found this, Jack was quite determined to see this through to the end whatever may come. He had known when he decided he wanted to become Eddie's Mommy that humans had an unhappy habit of dying, and that his Eddie, too, would mostly likely one day grow sick and definitely die. Still, somehow knowing and accepting that, didn't seem to make the entire thing a bit easier, and Jack had taken to crying in Gregor's arms every so often, unable to shake the feeling that all this was terribly wrong.


	326. Chapter 326

Crowley wiggled out of his Angel's warm embrace. Plushie in hand, the demon padded down the hall, his extra thick night diapers turning his usual peculiar stride into a waddle. 

He found his phone on the sitting room table, exactly where he had left it while watching the Exorcists earlier (for research purposes). Crowley plopped down on the sofa, his diapers squishing under him. He spared a worried glance to the mirror in the corner. He hoped the twins were alright and not arousing Eddie's, or rather the thing in Eddie 's, suspicion. What if it took Edgar and Ellen and locked them up wherever it had locked up Helena? (Or at least Crowley hoped Helena was just being held somewhere, because all the alternatives he could think of were worse.) 

Crowley shook his head, trying clear it. Now wasn't the time to worry. The time to worry would come when they were preforming a potentially dangerous exorcism on his special human friend. 

He stared at his phone. The idea had been to call Gabriel. He knew that there was already an angel on his side (as well as demons, witchfinders, a current psychic and former Madam, and a witch); however, Gabriel was an archangel. Surely, he could just snap his fingers and fix everything. Couldn't he? 

Crowley's fingers hovered over the screen. A teeny, tiny, flaw in his plan proved to be that he did not, in fact, know the archangel Gabriel's number. 

Crowley slumped back on the sofa. It had been such a good plan, too. 

You could Dial 666 for the Antichrist, why couldn't it be that easy for the archangel Gabriel? 

Crowley sat up. 

Maybe, just maybe it was that easy. 777 was the number for heaven, after all..... 

Crowley punched the three digits into his phone. 

After exactly seven rings, someone picked up.... and said "you've reached heaven... Hold please. " 

Crowley groaned and flopped dramatically backwards. 

Heaven apparently played Ave Maria as hold music, and after an hour of it on repeat Crowley was hoping for his sudden and merciful discorporation. 

He had a lovely wee in his diaper to pass the time. Played with his demon bear plushie, then stared at the rather ominous mirror for a while more. He longed for the twins to pop in, just so he knew they were still alive.... well... as alive as mirror wraith could be. Maybe even bring Gregor and Jack with, so Crowley could see them, too. 

"Hadraniel speaking. State your business. " 

If it was the same Hadraniel Crowley thought it was, the poor bugger must have been demoted to be stuck answering phones. 

"I uh... Want to sssspeak to the archangel Gabriel.... Please. " He tacked on at the end, though he found it almost physically painful. 

"Identify yourself. " 

"Oh.. Er.... Umm.... Aziraphale? " 

"The traitor?" 

'No?... Yes? " 

"It hardly matters, " Hadraniel said. "Gabriel is not in, and hasn't been for some time. " 

"Sssssoooo, " Crowley furrowed his brow. "He doesn't work for heaven anymore? " 

"No. He is still doing the glorious work of heaven. He is doing it remotely. All of his paper work is sent via email and he remains a prompt and exemplary angel of Heaven. Maybe even more so now that he is no longer physically here. Will that be all?" 

Hadraniel sounded like he really, really wanted to hang up. 

"Um... How could I get a hold of Gabriel? " 

"His personal number." 

"Sssssoooo, could I have it? " 

"No, " said Hadraniel, who then, having run entirely out of patience for this millennia, hung up. 

Crowley stared at his cellphone for a good long while. 

"Well, that was a bloody waste of time, " he grumped. Filled with resignation, he gathered up his devil bear and tromped back to his warm, Angel-filled bed. He needed his beauty sleep; after all, tomorrow would be a big day.


	327. Chapter 327

Shadwell seemed entirely too excited. Crowley scowled at the witchfinder as he crawled into Madame Tracy's lap. She stroked his ginger hair and cooed "poor baby" Crowley hissed and hid his face in her shoulder, because he was a poor baby. Thank you very much. 

Aziraphale bustled about fixing tea for everyone. While Hastur was curled up on Ligur, who seemed to have acquired a great deal of wicked looking weapons and strapped them about his person. Crowley would have bet his snaky little life that Hastur was similarly equipped with weaponry under his oversized green flannel. 

For her part, Anathema looked determined, sipping her Lady Grey and paging through the scuffed leather-bound volume on her lap. Newt looked worried, his wide eyes flitting about the room. He practically jumped out of his skin when two heads popped through the mirror in his peripheral vision. 

The twins ambled over holding two large chubby porcelain dolls. The plopped themselves in front of the sofa. 

"We have a plan" one began. 

"Do you have the stuff? " the other asked, directing their question at Anathema. 

The witch produced a leather satchel filled with darts and two small, wooden blowguns. 

"Do you know how to use these? " Anathema asked. 

Edgar and Ellen smiled in a way that might be described as menacing. "Yes" they said in unison, and no one dared disbelieve them. 

They began twisting the heads of their dolls off; and after so long with the twins, this didn't even register to Crowley as curious behavior. The two doll heads popped off revealing sizeable empty cavities withing the dolls’ bodies, into which the twins carefully placed the blowguns and darts. 

The Sargent gave a grunt of approval. Apparently weaponizing toys was a Shadwell-approved pastime. A fact which surprised exactly no one. 

"We found a room... " began one of the twins. "With a red door," the other interrupted. 

"That we think will work. It's mostly empty, but it has a bed we can tie down Eddie on, " the first twin finished. 

"It’s away from Gregor's library, where Gregor and Jack will be, " the second twin added. 

"You have your mirror? " This question was directed at Anathema. 

The witch nodded. 

"We'll call you when we've…when it's done" 

Aziraphale let out a little "oh! "And rushed over to the twins doing a great deal of. Fussing and telling them to "be careful".

The twins looked at Aziraphale curiously, as if not quite sure why the angel was worried for them. 

Overhead the storm that had been brewing over London since that morning came to head, and a great crack of lighting split the sky. 

Crowley jumped, and hid his face in Madame Tracy's shoulder. If he just kept his eyes closed, he lied to himself, it would all be over before he knew it. 

"We should go now," one of the twins said, and the other nodded like it agreed."Before Eddie misses us." 

They turned and headed through the mirror just as another crack of thunder shook the bookshop. 

Crowley whimpered


	328. Chapter 328

Eddie opened his eyes. He squinted against the light that assaulted them. His head hurt and he felt terribly groggy, which was odd, because he'd just been asleep, hadn’t he? Shouldn't he feel less tired than he had been? 

He tried to rub some of the sleep out of his eyes, but his hands wouldn't move down to his face. Eddie craned his neck up to see his left wrist chained to the bed. He looked to his right hand, which was unsurprisingly chained up as well. Eddie then did the only logical thing that one could so in that situation: he began to flop around like a fish out of water. 

" What's happening? " a voice said. 

"Should we continue? " another voice asked. 

Eddie realized for the first time that there we're other people in the room with him. He faced forward to see the demons and Aziraphale, the twins, Madam Tracy, Sargent Shadwell, the witch Anathema and Newt. He wondered dully what they were all doing in his room, and asked them as much. 

"It's a trick," one twin said, completely ignoring him. "We need to continue with exorcism. " the other one said. 

Exorcism thought Eddie. What exorcism? 

As Anathema began to read in a language that Eddie suspected was Latin, he stared to realize maybe it was his exorcism. 

Which was a ridiculous concept. Who could possibly have possessed him? The three demons he knew were all standing in front of him looking oddly nervous. It was all so bizarre.... so bizarre... it must be a dream. 

Eddie could have laughed. He was having a dream. it wasn't that odd when you thought about it. After all, how many times had he seen the Exorcist? The Rite? All three Anabelle films? ...... The answer was lots. 

He couldn't wait to tell the twins, the real twins, about this. He was certain they'd find it hilarious. 

There was a slight pause in the stream of Latin as Anathema handed to book over to Aziraphale, who continued the chant. She walked up to the bed, Newt, Hastur, Ligur and the twins following. She had some sort of ornate glass jar in her hand. Eddie tried to squirm away from her, but the chains held him firmly in place. He knew that jar was bad and he was overcome with the urge to have it far, far away from him. 

He kicked and struggled and bit and screamed as the demons and the twins held him down. He begged and pleaded "please, please don't do this! Please, please, don't hurt me! Please Anathema! " 

The witch faltered. But Edgar (or Ellen) urged her on. "Don't listen. It's a trick." 

"We have to do it. " Ellen (or Edgar) said firmly. 

No, they really didn't thought Eddie, and he was just about to voice that thought, when he felt his head being grasped and his mouth held opened for Anathema to pour the salty contents of her jar down his throat. 

Eddie tried to scream, but his cries were drowned in the salt mixture that was choking him as it slid down his throat. He could feel something deep, deep, inside him start to howl and writhe. It was inside him. In his blood. In his bones. In his heart and lungs, and liver and all the other organs he had and didn't know about.... In his brain. And it was ripping him apart. 

It was a pain so intense it was no longer pain. Eddie was consumed by one single thought... He wanted this to end. 

The something inside him twisted violently, and Eddie was just barely aware that he was both messing and wetting his diaper. He thought he might be crying as well. 

The Latin chanting continued. 

Eddie's insides spasmed and suddenly he was vomiting all over himself. It was putrid, and tasted like death. A putrid, stinking slime. Eddie looked down at the sick that was now coating his front and part of the bed. It wasn't the pea soup green of the iconic demon vomit in the Exorcist. It was black as pitch and Eddie was struck with the sudden horrifying thought that it was his own liquified insides. 

He screamed, and this time, there was nothing to silence him. He screamed for his Mommy. 

He needed Jack. He needed Jack more than he had ever needed him before. Mommy would come, and he would wake up in his bed and everything would be alright, and this would end. It had to. Eddie needed it to end, because quite frankly, if it didn't, Eddie didn't think he would survive.


	329. Chapter 329

Jack was half asleep, his head on Gregor's lap, while Gregor read aloud to him and stroked his hair. The twins had said they would look after Eddie, and Jack was so very tired, though not on a way sleep could fix. 

Jack focused on Gregor's deep voice, trying to keep his thought off his poor little human Eddie. 

"And Ethelred, who was by nature of a doughty heart, and who was now mighty withal, on account of the powerfulness of the wine which he had drunken, waited no longer to hold parley with the hermit, who, in sooth, was of an obstinate and maliceful turn, but, feeling the rain upon his shoulders, and fearing the rising of the tempest, uplifted his mace outright, and, with blows, made quickly room in the plankings of the door for his gauntleted hand; and now pulling there-with sturdily, he so cracked, and ripped, and tore all asunder, that the noise of the dry and hollow-sounding wood alarumed and reverberated throughout the forest." 

Jack started, pulling himself up and looking around wildly. 

"I heard something"

Gregor marked his place in the novel with a ribbon.

'I didn't. Darling, it was probably your imagination, you've been overwrought lately and.... " 

"No! No! " Jack flapped around his long arms wildly. "Not heard! Felt! I felt him! " 

Gregor narrowed his eyes. "Felt who? " 

"Edddddiieeeee" Jack hissed out, his eyes darting around the room. "My baby! " 

"Jack... " Gregor began, but was promptly interrupted by a long hand being placed over his mouth. 

"Sssshhh ssssshhhhhh sssssssshhhhhh" Jack pressed his face so close to Gregor's that Jack's pointy nose smooshed into Gregor's flat one. "It's Eddieeeee. " 

Gregor let out a muffled sigh. Jack sprang up from his lap and used his long, long legs to scramble out of the room, knocking over a stack of books on his way out. 

Gregor got up and followed his flighty friend out the door. Jack just needed to see that Eddie was alright, we as alright as he ever was these days, and then he could go back to resting. 

Jack prowled down the hall like a bloodhound, no doubt trying to sniff out the whereabouts of his little Eddie. And they heard it... 

Jack and Gregor looked at each other in shock as the pained cries of "mmoooooommmmmmyyy! pierced their ears. 

Jack didn't even take the time to take a bit of pleasure in being vindicated; they both felt the utter urgency in Eddie's voice and broke into a sprint towards the source.

Jack flung the door open, and the Latin chanting stopped as everyone turned to look at the rabid mirror wraith in the doorway. 

"Mommy! " 

Jack looked around for the source of the cry, and found Eddie chained in the middle of a bed looking terrified. 

He rushed forward, the way clear for him, as all the occupants of the room found themselves not so mysteriously thrown quite forcefully at the walls. 

Jack wrapped his long arms around his baby, and rocked him back and forth as far as the chains would allow. He was pulsing, his features shifting and disappearing and darkening, his form seemed to stretch and vibrate, humming with pure rage. "WHAT" he said, turning the hollow places where his eyes used to be on the assorted beings in the room who were slowly rising to their feet once more, "HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BABY! "


	330. Chapter 330

"Jack, it's not Eddie. "One of the twins spoke first, stepping up to the bed.   
The second twin followed. "Well, it is Eddie, but also it isn't, it's that, well.... " 

"We think Eddie is possessed. " 

"By Mama." 

One twin elbowed the other in the stomach, and then hurriedly said "we just think it's a mirror wraith. We don't know that's it's Mama." 

Jack was taken aback. Possession. That.... that made sense actually.... Jack wasn't exactly a stranger to it. Before he had come here to live with Helena and Gregor and the twins, he had run on Earth for a while with a group of mirror wraiths that possessed humans. Not for any particular reason, mind you, except their own amusement. Jack hadn't liked it very much. All of the humans he had possessed kept kicking him out of their bodies. 

And he hadn't really known what to do when he was in their bodies, anyway. He found it difficult to get a human’s stubby limbs to work right and, on the rare occasion he could manage it, he could never get the blasted things to go in the right direction. He usually just ran into walls and got himself stuck in corners. 

So, he had left, and found himself something better to do. But he had stayed long enough to have seen what his former companions did to the human bodies they inhabited. They wore the things into the dust. Human bodies just couldn't sustain a foreign entity inside them for a long period of time. Especially foreign entities who didn't understand and couldn't care less about the care and upkeep of said physical form. 

Jack didn't want that for his little human. 

"So, an exorcism... will get the mirror wraith that may or may not be mama out of my baby? And he'll be alright? " 

"Mommy... " Eddie squeaked out pitifully, uselessly reaching for Jack with a shackled hand "I'm not possessed. " 

"Ehhhh.... " Edgar (or was it Ellen) said looking quite uncomfortable. "Maybe? " 

The other twin bit their lip. "The exorcism, might save Eddie... But it also might.... kill him." 

" I'm sorry... so what you're saying to me is that if you preform the exorcism Eddie might die, and if he stays possessed, he'll definitely die? " 

The twins shared a look, and everyone else shifted around nervously. 

"..... Yes? " Ellen (or Edgar) tentatively ventured. 

"Mommy, " Eddie whimpered. 

Jack held him tighter. "I don't suppose," he said, his ever-present smile growing increasingly wider and more maniac looking, "that anyone.... anyone at all.... has a third option? One where Eddie doesn't die, perchance?" 

There was a chorus of "ummmmms" and a shaking of heads and a "not that we know of" from the resident witch. 

Jack looked down at his little Eddie, who, quite frankly wasn't looking so good. "So, either Eddie dies later for sure, or Eddie now maybe.... But if we just let him be, I'll have more time with him, right? " 

"Well, yes... "one of the twins began. 

"Eddie should make this decision. Right? Right? It’s about him after all. Right? "Jack laughed nervously and turned down to look at his baby. Eddie's eyes were rolled up in his head now, and he wasn't saying anything, so Jack patted his cheek and called to him. "Baby... Baby... Baby... " 

"I'm fine mommy... make them stop. " But Eddie's eyes hadn't rolled back down, and his mouth wasn't moving as he said it. Jack didn't think it sounded like his baby's voice. It was too deep and rough and came, not from Eddie's mouth, but somewhere deep inside his chest. 

Aziraphale stepped forward, Crowley hovering protectively by his side. "Jack, dear. I think the possession has rendered Eddie, well.... Rather non compos mentis. " 

Jack looked up with tears shimmering in his eyes. "Then who chooses for him? " 

"Well, you are the closest to him, Jack dear... " 

Jack looked stricken. He couldn't make a decision like this; he could barely choose which shirt to wear. But.... Eddie was his baby. Jack buried his face in his hands and tried to think. He thought and he thought but he was only chasing his thoughts around in circles. No matter what he chose, Eddie might die.... 

So, he decided to stop thinking. After all, he was never very good at it. He took a deep breath, and instead decided on what he felt deep, deep down to be the right choice. He kissed his baby on the forehead and stood up. 

Jack closed his eyes and nodded at the gathered entities. "Finish the exorcism. " 

Eddie screamed.


	331. Chapter 331

Eddie was drifting in and out of an oppressive blackness. He could heat the Latin chanting in the background, and sometimes he could see them, Anathema and the twins and the rest, and he got the idea that he was screaming and crying, but it didn't feel like him doing it. But these flashes only lasted a moment; then he slipped back into the darkness. 

"Why don't you just give up, you worthless little fuck?" 

Eddie knew that voice, he turned around squinting into the darkness "D…Dad?" 

There he was. Eddie's father, looking some combination of pissed off and disgusted. 

"God. Are you wearing a diaper? Fucking disgusting" 

Eddie could feel his stomach drop. He looked down at himself, and just like his father had said he was wearing a diaper. It was the kind with the smiling Panda face, which were his favorite, but now looking at the happy panda on his obviously wet and sagging diaper made him feel sick. 

He looked back up to his father. Only it wasn't just his father there now. His mother stood behind him, and his brother beside her, looking exactly as they did the last time he saw them so many years ago... And wasn't that weird? Shouldn't they be older? His brother would be like 19 or 20 or something by now, wouldn't he? 

But Eddie didn't have too much time to dwell on that, because by his mother and brother stood Nathaniel and Annie and the rest of the coven, all with the same disgusted look. Behind them Eddie recognized even more faces in the ever-growing crowd that stood on a garish orange and red carpet in a hallway that seemed to stretch back forever growing smaller and smaller into the dark distance until it was only a orangish pinprick. 

In the crowd Eddie could see a couple of people who used to steal from him after he'd been kicked out of his father’s house and was living on the streets, some kids who used to call him names and throw trash at him back in school, one of his dad's asshole friends, that one teacher that really hated him for no apparent reason in primary school, a street preacher who had told him he was going to hell.... It went on and on. It seemed as if everyone who had ever been a dick to him had showed up en masse to hurl abuse at him. 

He could hear them all. Their voices all joined together in a deafening chorus of shouts, alternating between abuse and mockery. 

"Freak" 

"Does baby need his mommy? " 

"He's sick" 

"Oh god, he does need diapers; he's pissing and shitting himself!"

And Eddie was, he realized. He could feel it seeping into his diaper and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He couldn't do anything to stop any of this. So, he did what he had always done: he hung his head and took it. 

He stared at the ugly red and orange carpet, trying really hard not to cry, because crying never made anything better.... In fact, it almost always made things worse.

He stared at the geometrical patterns with blurry eyes. Orange and red octagons interconnected with each other outlined in a dirty brownish. It was so familiar. Where had he seen it before… 

Suddenly his head snapped up. "It's.... It's the c... carpet from the Shining! "

The crowd quieted. 

"The hell you on about? " his father asked. 

"It's the carpet from the Shining! You k.. know. The horror film it the hotel? I know you k... know. Because we watched it together when I was a kid. It’s like, the one good memory I have with you out of a thousand shitty ones. 

"This isn't real. " 

Eddie paused, he looked down at the carpet again, then back up to his father, narrowing his eyes. 

"You're an a... asshole.... You complained y…your whole life about how your parents where horrible to you, and then you turned around and did the exact same things to me and my brother! Nothing ever got better, because you didn't care enough to try to make it better. You just wanted to wallow in your own misery and... And you dragged us down with you, too! You were so terrible, and because you were terrible, all the people and things that could have made your life better were smart enough to stay the hell away from you! .... And I'm glad you kicked me out. So I didn't end up just like you.... Because you always told me what a piece of shit I was, but the piee of shit has always been you. And... And... I'm honestly not certain if that's your fault or not.... I know what your parents were like.... But... But I'm tired of this. " 

Eddie gestured, not only at his father, but the crowd. 

"I'm... I'm... Not happy. I mean, well I am happy, but not like all the time. But even… Even when I'm sad or anxious it's alright.... I'm alright... For the first time in my life, I'm... Alright. And maybe you're right, maybe I am a freak. Wearing.... Wearing d... Diapers and hanging out with demons and an angel and some sort of horrifying Lovecraftion mirror monsters...." Eddie gestured, waving a hand up, and as he listed them off, the angel, demons, and mirror wraiths appeared behind him. 

" But my life is better than it's ever been. 

“And besides, this is in my head. A dream, or like inside my mind or something. A metaphor or a simile or an allegory or something. I don't know... I got a D in English, but they do it in movies and on TV all the time. This is definitely in my head. And... And do you want to know how I know? " 

Eddie didn't pause for an answer because he knew one wouldn't come. 

"You just stood there and let me say all of this. My real dad would be really, really pissed about now. So, go away. All of you go away! " he shouted into the crowd. "You can be dicks to me out there, but I'm not going to let you be dicks to me in my own head. So, GO. AWAY!" 

And they did. Melting into some foul black goo, and being seeped up by the carpet. 

He turned to Jack. "Is the other part real, or just in my head, too? The uh.... Part with the exorcism? "

But Jack didn't answer, because it wasn't really Jack, only Eddie's mental image of him, and he, therefore, knew exactly as much about the whole thing as Eddie did. (Which was not much at all) 

Eddie shifted from foot to foot, still staring at the unmoving Jack." Sooooo... What do I do now? Do I wake up? Do I like, explore? Do you want to explore my mind with me? That would be pretty cool."

Eddie was getting almost excited at the prospect of exploring his (apparently Stephen King themed) mind, when the dense blackness that made up the walls and the ceiling of the dream hallways began to shake and tremble. The blackness pulsed and writhed, in places it bulged out, huge black blobs pouring over and out into the hallway. Eddie ran towards his Mommy and clutched Jack close, partly because he was frightened, and partly because he thought he should protect his Mommy from whatever catastrophe was currently happening in his head. 

The darkness had enclosed half the hallway now and was creeping closer towards them and Eddie worried it might creep around them and devour both him and Jack. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the inevitable. Then he jerked his head up and opened them. "Hold up... This is my dream thing!" 

He turned around to face the encroaching darkness. "STOP! " he yelled.

And it did. 

Eddie would have sworn it looked curiously at him, though it was just a void of darkness And had no face or even eyes with which to look. Then it began to pulse and writhe once more, and from out of that oppressive darkness a figure began crawling. 

Eddie began squinting at it as it took shape. It looked familiar.... 

"Mama?" It was definitely Mama. But instead of afraid, Eddie was annoyed. 

"What are you doing in my head? Go away!" He waved a hand dismissively. 

But Mama did not go away. If fact she began to come towards Eddie, who by now was really annoyed. "Didn't you head me? This is my mind, and I said GO. AWAY."

But Mama did not go away this time either. Instead, she began to shriek. (quite impressively for a creature without a mouth). Eddie shoved his hands to his ears. He could feel something warm and sticky pouring out of them, out of his nose. And then Mama lunged for him, her grotesquely elongated fingers curled around like talons. 

"Go away! Go Away! Go away! " Eddie chanted, right up until he felt her long jagged nails pierce his skin....... Then he screamed.


	332. Chapter 332

Crowley felt sick. He didn't like this. He had seen the worst hell and heaven and humanity had to offer: war and politics, pointless murder and torment, but this, this made Crow want to vomit. Maybe it was because it was a human he particularly cared about. Maybe it was because his angel was beside him, shuddering and occasionally emitting pained little "oh!"s, obviously distressed. Or maybe it was the putrid black slime that reeked of not just rot, but putrid aquatic rot and something else foul that Crowley couldn't identify, that Eddie kept vomiting up every so often. 

Whatever it was, Crowley didn't like it, and he wanted it to end. 

They had all raised their voices in the chanting now, even Jack, whose Latin was often broken by sobs. Eddie, or rather the thing within Eddie, seemed very unhappy with this. Eddie had begun to contort himself into positions that even Crowley knew were far outside the normal limitations of the human body. There had been popping and snapping sounds, and the demon couldn't say if it was Eddie's joints popping out of place or his bones snapping. He even managed to turn his head almost completely backwards exorcist style at one point. 

A while ago, Eddie had managed to break one of the chains that held him to the bed. Ligur and Hastur had jumped on the human's arm, pinning down the now free wrist with visible strain as Eddie twisted and writhed. 

The chanting went on unbroken. 

Crowley didn't know how long they had been here. He didn't really know how time worked in the mirror realm, if indeed it worked at all. The longer they stayed here, the more Crowley felt sick. It was more than a physical ache in his corporation; it was this oppressive dread. As if nothing would ever be alright ever again if they continued. Even Aziraphale's soft hand in his own gave Crowley no comfort, which unsettled him maybe more than Eddie's unnatural contortionism and black sludge vomiting. 

Eddie had his back arched off the bed now and was slowly rising upwards despite the best efforts of Hastur and Ligur to pull him back down. Eddie floated a few feet up off the bed, as far as his chains would allow him to go, his eyes still rolled back in his head, and his limbs limply trailing downward. For a while, he stayed that way. Just hanging there in the air. Silent. Unmoving. 

Everyone seemed to relax just the tiniest bit. Especially Jack, who had been obviously anguished by the cries of "Mommy please help! " "Mommy make it stop" even though they did not come from Eddie's lips and we're no longer in anything remotely resembling Eddie's voice. 

Then, because, of course they did, things got worse. 

Eddie began to move once more, but this time it wasn't the violent flailing and clawing that he'd previously done. It was a trembling, that wracked his entire thin body, and seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within in him. Eddie gurgled, blowing black sludge bubbles as he seemingly tried to breathe. 

Crowley could feel the air tremble with Eddie and he gripped his angel's hand tighter. The demon was almost sure that his pointy black finger nails had pierced Aziraphale's soft skin, but the angel didn't complain. Crowley suddenly felt quite nostalgic for the days in which they had just faced down a very irate Satan. 

Sargent Shadwell spoke, his rough voice carrying over the chanting, voicing the question they all wanted to ask. "What the hell is happing? "

Anathema handed the book to Newt, and made some motion that he should continue with the Latin. She pushed up her glasses, and said with some mix of awe and trepidation in her voice. "I think.... I think Eddie is fighting. "

"Wait" said one of the twins. "Do you mean he's fighting Mama... Or us? " the other finished. 

The witch paused, looking at Eddie once more, "I.... honestly don't know. "


	333. Chapter 333

This was all terribly unfair, thought Eddie. There had been plenty of times in his life when he wouldn't have minded dying, and only now that he actually had a life worth living, he was going to be killed. Of course, back when he wouldn't have minded dying, he had thought that death would just be oblivion. Sweet, blissful nothingness. The finding out hell and heaven were real thing? That kind of blew Eddie's desire to escape this mortal coil out of the water. 

What if he went to Hell when he died? What if he went to Heaven? Form what little he had gleaned from the angel and demons in his life, neither option was particularly appealing. 

Eddie wanted to go home. 

He wanted his Mommy and cuddles and a diaper change and to curl up in front of the TV with Crowley and Hastur and the twins and watch the Addams family. 

He wanted to go home. 

He could feel Mama tearing him apart. He could see his torn left leg oozing putrid black slime on the red and orange carpet. 

His left arm must be gone now too, lying on that ugly carpet as well because Eddie could no longer feel it. Mamma was currently working at his other leg, systematically ripping him apart. When she finished, Eddie knew, that he wouldn't just wake up, he would be gone. The kind of gone where you never came back. 

The black mass that was Mama shifted just a bit, (in order to better claw at his leg) so that Eddie could now see Jack and the twins and the rest of Eddie's supernatural family, standing exactly where he had left them. They couldn't of course help him: they were just the versions of them that lived in Eddie's head. No one would be coming to save him. Eddie would have to save himself. Only he couldn't. He was just, so tired… And Mama just wouldn't go away. No matter how hard he wanted her to. 

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt his leg being twisted off with a sickening series of pops and loud cracks. 

If he imagined another world in his mind, one where his Mommy and friends did come to save him at the last minute, well that was his business wasn't it? He was dying, after all. He would take what comfort he could get. 

Jack would take his mirror wraith form, which Eddie for once wouldn't find unsettling. Yea, he would still be a horrifying nightmare, but he would be a horrifying nightmare monster that was protecting him. 

Jack would jump on Mamma's back and begin tearing at her just as she was tearing at Eddie. The other mirror wraiths would follow suit. 

Crowley and Hastur and Ligur would jump into the fray, looking terrifying and demon-y. 

Aziraphale too would attack Mama. Eddie imagined him looking like the angels in the bible with lots of wings and eyes and stuff... Probably on fire, too... 

Eddie was so lost in his fantasy he didn't really notice when the pain abruptly stopped. It took him a few moments to realize and open his eyes and prop himself up with his one remaining arm so that he could look around. 

Mama was no longer on top of him. Instead, she was suspended in the air a few feet away being pulled apart by several supernatural entities. One of which was on fire. 

Mamma became less and less there. Bits of wispy darkness were pulled away to dissolve into the air. And then Eddie just... Blinked... And she was gone altogether. 

Kind of anticlimactic, Eddie thought, as he let his arm give out. But he was really tired now, and just glad that this whole thing was over. 

Eddie let his head fall back on to the ugly Overlook Hotel carpet and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, and allowing himself to fall into the blissful oblivion of sleep.


	334. Chapter 334

Eddie stopped trembling suddenly, heaved, and gave one long, gurgling sigh. Smoke seemed to emanate from every pore, drifting upwards to gather above him in a large and rather ominous looking black cloud. 

Eddie's limp body crashed to the bed, and Jack, who had rather admirably restrained himself up to this point, could seemingly bear it no longer and, in one unnaturally long stride, was over to the bed, cradling his baby. 

Everyone else watched as the smoke gradually darkened and took an all too familiar shape. 

"Mama" the twins said in unison, and there was something terrible and broken in that one word. 

"Why?... Why did you possess Eddie? You didn't have to. We... We want-" The twin's voice cracked on the word ‘want’ so the other twin took over. "Wanted you here. With us. As yourself. You didn't need to do this. " 

Mama shrieked. The non-mirror wraiths in the room didn't know if this was meant as a reply in some sort of mirror wraith language or just a regular old blood curdling scream, but what they did know was that Mama was very pissed off. 

She was circling the air above Eddie like a vulture, occasionally letting out an irate howl. This behavior in turn seemed to piss off the twins. Edgar and Ellen began to grow hazy and vibrate, slowly elongating and losing features unti they were in their mirror wraith forms.... Only, they didn't stop there. They howled, and began to twine together. Soon it was impossible to distinguish one from the other, they had melded seamlessly into one great, horrific mirror wraith with too many limbs. 

Crowley blinked. He.... He hadn't known they could do that.... 

At his side Aziraphale let out a breathy little "Oh" 

The air crackled, and the smell of ozone permeated the room. It felt like that little bit of time before a storm, when you could feel the raw power of what was to come. 

The thing that was the twins let out a deafening shriek and lunged towards Mama. 

The two creatures collided with a thunderous bang, and the entire room shook with the force sending everyone flying to the ground. 

"I do rather think, " Aziraphale yelled out over the din, "that we should be going! " 

"Couldn't agree more! " replied Anathema. 

From there it was a blur, everyone scurried about, keeping low so as not to be nearer to the warring mirror wraiths locked in mortal combat above their heads. 

The floor felt unsteady under their feet. The walls visibly trembled. The lights, which had been flickering on and off thought the entire ordeal, had now gone completely off. And yet it was not entirely dark in the mirror realm. A hazy sort of twilight had set over the place. Just enough light emanated so they could avoid running into the grey shapes they recognized as walls and furniture. 

Another violent tremor shook them to the ground. 

As they all scrambled to their feet, it occurred to Anathema, as she was arguably the smartest being currently present, that Eddie had been chained to the bed. And probably was still chained to the bed, as Anathema was fairly certain Edgar and Ellen had had the keys. However, when she looked back, there was Eddie, cradled limply in Jack's arms... She didn't have too much time to think about it, as yet another tremor wracked the hallway. 

Still peering over her shoulder Anathema saw the black figures of Mama and the twins shooting out of the spare room, still grappling and snarling. 

They careened into a wall and once again everyone found themselves on the floor. The mirror realm was feeling less and less stable by the second. 

"We need to run!" Anathema called out to the others once they were back on their feet. They all seemed to be in agreement with the witch because they all made a rather frenzied dash for the mirror in the sitting room. 

Crowley, not being particularly adept at walking, let alone running, fell behind. Aziraphale, of course, slowed his pace to match and with one swift motion picked Crowley up and threw the demon over his shoulder. (The way one might carry a sack of potatoes.) The demon let out an indignant squawk, but Aziraphale didn't pay him any mine until they were safely through the mirror and in the warm, welcoming glow of the bookshop once more.


	335. Chapter 335

Jack looked down at his baby as around him the others scurried about gathering up all the mirrors in the bookshop and laying them face down on the floor so nothing (specifically the nothing that was called Mama) could get through. 

Eddie's skin was almost translucent where it wasn't covered in dried blood or dark tar-like sick up. Jack found being able to see all of Eddie's little blue veins spiderwebbing under his skin to be quite becoming; however, he was pretty certain that wasn’t normal for humans that were in peak working order. 

Jack shifted Eddie in his arms, and a sour unpleasant smell reminded Jack that his baby ought to be changed. 

He announced as much to the room. Anathema insisted on examining Eddie, assisted by Newt. The witch's mouth was pressed into a line, and Jack wished she knew enough about human facial expressions to know what that meant. (Humans, they just.... had so many. Forever twisting their faces this way and that.) But he did not, and was left to worry in silence as the witch poked and prodded his poor little Eddie. 

"Aziraphale, " Anathema began, turning to where the angel was sitting with Crowley curled up on his lap "could you have a look, maybe..." Here she made a gesture that involved flailing one hand about. 

Aziraphale looked baffled for a moment, then "Ahh! Miracle! " 

Anathema nodded. 

Aziraphale rather reluctantly set Crowley down next to Madam Tracy. He walked over and stood above Eddie, closing his eyes in concentration as he assessed the situation. It felt like a long time before he opened them again. 

"He's dehydrated and malnourished.... I can miracle sustenance into him. But other than that, I can't sense anything else wrong." 

Anathema looked displeased. "But something is obviously wrong with him. " 

Aziraphale ruffled. "I can see that, thank you. However, I cannot find it. I can only heal what is physically wrong. I can repair bones, make organs work properly again, regrow brain matter, that sort of thing. If it's him, if it's his soul... I... I can't fix that. " 

Aziraphale stroked Eddie's hair out of his face. It had always been shaggy, in a sort of stylized way, but now it was long and scraggly, falling into the human's pale face. Aziraphale thought that he could use another trip to the salon. Get a nice haircut, maybe some new black highlights, as his had long since faded into a sort of muddy gray. Morosely, Aziraphale wondered if Eddie would indeed be around long enough for such an outing to happen. 

"I'm sorry." The angel shook his head. "I could be missing something. Mirror wraiths seem to err... interfere with perception, and, in our case, our ability to perform miracles. " 

"What do I do?" Jack's voice broke and his ever- present smile looked pained. 

Aziraphale quite frankly didn't know. 

Anathema spoke, much softer than usual. "You take care of him as he is. That's all you can do. If he wakes up, that's a good sign. " Anathema reached out to lay a hand on Jack's shoulder but aborted the motion halfway through, awkwardly dropping her hand to her side and fisting it in her skirts. 

Jack nodded. "I can do that" he said, then quietly, almost to himself, repeated "I can do that" 

He gathered up Eddie in his arms. "I'm going to... " He nodded towards the bathroom. "Gregor, would you please... " Jack's voice trailed off. 

"Of course." Gregor nodded solemnly, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Of course. "


	336. Chapter 336

Jack had always liked this part. The washing. He liked to immerse himself in a task, and spending time with his baby making him clean was always a pleasant one. However, on this particular occasion any pleasantness the task had seemed to be drowned in oppressive silence. 

Gregor helped Jack strip Eddie of his bloody, filthy, clothes. Once he was naked, they both placed him in the tub, resting his head gently on the edge. Gregor stood back, as Jack began to wash the worst of the filth. Black muck swirled down the drain, leaving bloody streaks on the white porcelain. 

Once he had gotten the worst off, Jack squirted out babyish scented soap onto a duck patterned washcloth. He soaped up his baby, then wrung out the cloth under warm water and started to rinse the suds away. 

Once he finished, Jack sat back on his heels looking morose and spoke for the first time since they had entered the bathroom. His words seemed...Louder than he had intended. "I don't know what to do about his hair. It's dirty, but I don't know how to wash it. You're not supposed to put water on humans’ faces; it kills them." 

For a moment, Gregor debated trying to explain the mechanics of drowning to Jack, in the end he decided that this was not quite the time. Instead he just placed a gentle hand on Jack's shoulder. "Here. I will hold him up, and you can wash his hair. Just fill a cup with water to wet it, and I'll make certain none of it gets in his face. " 

Jack nodded without saying a word; and Gregor couldn't help but feel it was so wrong for Jack to be so silent. 

Eddie stirred a little while Jack rubbed shampoo into his hair. Jack looked terribly hopeful for a few long painful seconds. Then, Eddie stilled, and Jack looked devastated. Gregor could see shiny tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. 

Once his hair was finished, Eddie was taken out of the tub and swaddled in towels. Jack went to lay him on the changing table. He paused, and turned to Gregor once more, a long-fingered hand resting on Eddie's concave belly to hold him in place. 

"Can you um.... get some clothes for him? Some pajamas. And socks! The fuzzy kind! Also blankets, and a pacifier and a plushie." 

Gregor nodded. He was hesitant to leave Jack alone, but he knew that the task needed to be done and Jack had asked him. So, he nodded and left, intending to perform his task as quickly as possible. 

Jack set about the task of diapering his baby, but like everything else lately it didn't feel right at all. 

He rubbed in copious amounts of sweet-smelling pink lotion, and poured on liberal amounts of white powder. He taped on one of Eddie's favorite disposable diapers first, (the kind with the smiling panda face) then he placed a white velcro cloth diaper over that. It was patterned with various baby pandas all in different little outfits playing with blocks and riding on rocking horses and doing other suitable, baby things. 

"Mommy," croaked out a dry voice. 

Jack looked up to see Eddie's blue eyes, sunken and bloodshot, but open. If only partially. 

"Baby! " Jack squeaked. 

"Is.... Is this... A dream.? Or are you real? " 

Jack blinked. Gregor had tried to explain to him the difference between dreams and reality once, but Jack had never quite understood. So, Jack did the only reasonable thing to do in this situation; he guessed. 

"Yeeeeeessss...... Nooooo? No. It isn't a dream? " 

Eddie looked contemplative for a moment, then reached out a pale hand to touch Jack's cheek. "OK." he said. 

Jack held Eddie's frail hand to his cheek and closed his eyes. "Mommy loves you baby. " 

Eddie face twisted up in a small painful looking smile. "Ok," he repeated. "I love you too, Mommy. " Then he closed his eyes and laid his head back. And for the first time in what Jack realized was a very long time, he felt some measure of peace.


	337. Chapter 337

"This is why I don't like being friendsssss with humanssss! " Crowley groused. He was lying on his changing mat on his and Aziraphale's bed while his angel fussed over his diaper change. 

"You just begin to like the rotten thingsssss, then they up and die on you! " The demon flailed his arms about, trying and failing to perform some sort of dramatic hand gesture. 

"Oh, do hold still, darling," Aziraphale tutted, sliding a clean diaper under his wiggly demon's bony bottom. He smoothed out the sides and taped the straps of the diaper down with practiced ease. "Eddie might not die," Aziraphale said, but it was hesitant. "And it is better to love and lose than to have never loved at all. " 

"What twat sssssaid that rubbish," Crowley snarked, folding his arms across his chest and looking adorably petulant. (He had intended for frighteningly cross but had fallen short of the mark by several miles.) 

"Alfred Lord Tennyson" Aziraphale replied, pulling up Crowley's red tartan trousers. 

Crowley snorted. 

"It's not even just ssssselfish! " the demon whined. 

"Isn't it, dear boy? " Aziraphale asked, bemused. Crowley's theatrics could always lighten the angel's spirits, even in the most trying of times. 

"No angel! Eddie deservessssss better! " 

Aziraphale slid the changing mat out from under Crowley, who was back on his back wiggling about dramatically. The angel paused and frowned." Better than what? " 

"Better than Hell... Or Heaven! " 

Aziraphale was about to say reflexively that one couldn't get better than heaven, but he stopped himself. He didn't really believe that anymore, he found. "Crowley, darling," he began. " You know that humans must die. It's a necessary part of the cycle that must be maintained.... " 

"I knoooooowww angel. " the demon whined. "But they won't miss one little tiny human. Eddie's ourrrrrssssssss. And if we can give him a better fate than the river of soulssss in hell or the.... " Crowley paused, looking either thoughtful or constipated. "Where does your lot keep souls in in Heaven? " 

"Ahhh... A file cabinet, " answered Aziraphale after a pause. 

"A.... " Crowley blinked his big yellow eyes blankly up at the angel. Then he shook his head, fiery curls cascading around his face "You know what? I'm not even surprised." 

"Even.... Even if you could, theoretically, hypothetically, keep Eddie on earth for an extended period of time, should you? I mean, we both know what happened to Cain. Humans aren't made to live forever, physically or otherwise " 

Crowley grimaced, "But what about Lilith? She's still around and she's literally one of the first humans ever made! And she seems fine! Or... as fine as Lilith ever was.... " he trailed off. 

Aziraphale felt torn. It wasn't so very long ago that he would have said that God knew best, and Eddie must live only as long as She intended and then go to either Heaven or Hell. However now... Aziraphale shook his head. Everything was so very complicated now, and it worried him terribly. They had so many choices, but what if they made the wrong one? 

He bent down without thinking to pick his wiggly little serpent up. He found comfort in the familiar weight of the demon in his arms, his curls ticking the angel's nose, the familiar baby lotion scent, a hand sporting a cushy diapered bottom. 

"We need to talk to Eddie, and, failing that, Jack." (Aziraphale hoped it wasn't Jack. It wasn't that he doubted Jack's commitment to doing what was best for Eddie, it was just that... he questioned the decision-making skills of someone who wore orange and purple striped shirts with red paisley patterned trousers.) "If we do try and keep Eddie, we can't do it without his consent." 

Crowley hissed happily in the angel's ear, tickling it with his little forked tongue. 

Aziraphale just patted his demon's thickly diapered bottom. 

"Come now darling. I need to go out and get drinks for the others.... Good stiff ones I think, for the circumstances.... For restorative purposes. And you need a nice bottle. You're rather fussy tonight. " 

Crowley wriggled; he was going to fuss. He didn't need Aziraphale coddling him, as he didn't feel all that little. But some gears in his head painstakingly turned producing a single, precious thought. Maybe.... Maybe Aziraphale wasn't coddling him because he thought Crowley needed it.... Maybe.... Aziraphale was coddling Crowley because Aziraphale needed it... 

Crowley thought that he might be able to martyr himself and withstand a tortuous onslaught of cuddling and fussing...for his angel, of course. 

The demon laid his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Vodka in the milk? " he asked. 

Aziraphale paused, pretending to contemplate "For restorative purposes. " he finally said, as small smile on his lips.


	338. Chapter 338

Crowley lay with his head on Aziraphale's lap. The angel held a bottle of creamy vanilla flavored, vodka-heavy milk Crowley was nursing from. The rest of his gangly body was draped across Madam Tracy 's lap, his long legs spilling over to lie across the Sargent's. Shadwell had grumbled, but he hadn't tried to push them off. 

Crowley could occasionally hear Eddie as he briefly woke, asking every time whether or not this was a dream. And every time Jack would softly answer that, no it wasn't. (Jack couldn't quite remember the difference between reality and dreams, but "no" seemed to be the right answer, so he was going with that.) 

Eddie would then sometimes be awake long enough for Jack to attempt to feed him some (vodka-less) milk. Eddie's eyes would droop after a few minutes, and the milk would begin to dribble out the corners of his mouth, gently wiped away by the pink monogramed (though not with his own initials) handkerchief of Gregor, who sat right besides Jack, supporting Eddie's back and occasionally rubbing it as he drank. Hastur sat beside him, squished up against Gregor, his beady little toad eyes never leaving Eddie. 

Soon Eddie would fall asleep once again, his head dropping to rest on Jack's shoulder. In a few minutes his bleary eyes would flit open, and the cycle would continue. 

Crowley found it comforting. So long as he could hear Eddie's muddled questions every so often, he knew the human was still alive. Eddie would get better. Then he would agree to Crowley's brilliant plan and he would never die. The twins would come back any moment with Helena, and then everyone Crowley gave a shit about at all would be accounted for, and nothing bad would ever happen to any of them again. (Here Crowley was dabbling in the popular human, angel, and demon pastime of lying to one's self.) 

The last of Crowley's bottle was finished, and he made to complain, but Aziraphale shushed him and placed a pacifier in his mouth, silencing the demon's fussing. Madam Tracy was absentmindedly rubbing Crowley's thin tummy, and now he felt his angel delicately twine a finger in one of his curls. 

An uncomfortable tension still lingered in the air, but Crowley didn't worry (much). Any minute now, there would be knock on one of the mirrors, and they would flip it over so that the twins could come through, Helena behind them, and everything would be just tickety-boo. 

Crowley closed his eyes. He could hear the ebb and flow of quiet conversation around him, a comforting lull. 

"... getting late... Should we be going? " 

Crowley snorted as he awoke. He wasn't certain who had spoken, Madame Tracy maybe, or Anathema, possibly Newt. He didn't want anyone to go, especially Madam Tracy. If she left that meant her tummy rubs would also go, and Crowley, quite frankly, wasn't prepared for that. The demon's preemptive mourning over the loss of hiss tummy rubs was interrupted however, by Sargent Shadwell of all people. 

He stood to attention, making Crowley pull his legs into Madame Tracy's lap in self- defense. "We do not, " he bellowed out, "abandon our comrades on the front lines! " pointing at the sea of overturned mirrors. 

There was a collective silence while everyone tried to figure out what the hell Shadwell was on about now. 

"Do you.... Do you mean the twins? " Newt asked tentatively. 

Shadwell gave Newt a look that very clearly stated he thought that Newt was a complete and utter idiot. "Of course, the twins! They are valiantly fighting for our cause. We will not abandon them! The witchfinder army leaves no man behind!" 

Shadwell then sat back down with a thud, crossing his arms resolutely. 

Madame Tracy smiled. It was at times like this she remembered exactly why she was so fond of this half crazed grumpy old man with a penchant for going on about nipples. She reached out a hand to squeeze his arm. "I can't speak for the others, luv, but I'll be right here with you." 

"We would like to stay as well. " Anathema said, as Newt nodded. "If that is acceptable with you Aziraphale? " 

"Of course, dears, " the angel replied. "Do you think, that they will be alright? The twins I mean," Aziraphale asked, though to no one in particular. 

It was Gregor's rumbling voice that answered him. "Yes. I believe they will be. We cannot die or be hurt in the same way that humans can, and I believe this.... this has been a long time coming. The twins, the twins have to do this. Alone. Though if they have not returned by the morning, I will go and look for them."

Aziraphale was about to nod and say "that seems perfectly reasonable’, but he didn't get the chance, as Shadwell interrupted him. 

"I'm coming with you, " he barked in a tone that invited no argument. Argument came just the same. The others tried to say that it was too dangerous for a human, that the mirror world was unstable at the moment, that he could be injured. Shadwell just crossed his arms and grunted, and would not be deterred. 

Finally, Gregor raised a hand to quiet them. "If he wishes to come, I will protect him the best I can. " And that seemed to be that.


	339. Chapter 339

The twins indeed, did not return by morning, so Gregor and Sargent Shadwell flipped over the floor- length mirror that usually sat in the sitting room, and went through it. 

The mirror realm both looked and felt more unstable than usual. It was like walking through a fun house, though significantly less fun. It made Shadwell nauseous, this permanent off- kilter feeling, and he often stumbled, having to catch himself on Gregor's arm. Then, as Gregor turned to make certain that he was alright, Shadwell looked away quickly, pretending that he hadn't just almost fallen. Because witchfinders didn't falter, or at least, witchfinders didn't admit when they faltered. 

Things had been strewn around, the sofa was upside down on the other side of the room, all of the weird paintings and unsettling black and white photographs of faceless people in old fashioned clothing were scattered about the floor, glass shattered and frames cracked. 

Shadwell listened for any signs of fighting, stroking the small, odd-looking gun that was in his pocket. Shadwell had, of course, come armed despite promising Madam Tracy he wouldn't. He didn't intend to use it. Not on Eddie, or the twins, or the rest of the weird creatures he had come to make some sort of peace with; but old habits died hard. And he needed to be able to protect. Protect his Scarlet woman, protect the twins, even protect the rest of them if it came down to it. He didn't think anyone would really mind if he shot that horrible ghoul that had come out of the little blonde boy. 

Only, he wasn't certain that his weapon would do anything against it. What he had seen had terrified him, maybe more than the actual devil had. That thing had been unbridled rage and misery and unending disquiet, and righteousness, and... so, so terribly familiar. Shadwell felt that, somehow, if his life had gone just a little bit differently, he could have been that thing. And that frightened him. 

They walked down hallways; Shadwell spied a chunk taken out of the walls here and there. Doors ripped off the hinges of rooms that they peeked into, finding nothing. 

Two or three hallways in, they found the twins. They were silent and still. They sat in shadow, pressed together, heads down. As they drew closer, Shadwell could see that they hadn't quite become "human" again. They we're still mostly stuck together in a tangle of heads and limbs, and they blurred in and out far more than usual. One moment they would have facial features and then Shadwell would blink, and they would be gone. 

The witchfinder recoiled, stopping in his tracks as Gregor knelt down a few feet away to talk to the twins. 

"Are you alright?" the wraith asked. 

"FINE" they said. They spoke in unison like usual, but now sounded warped. Echoing. Unnatural. Shadwell shuddered, fighting to keep his hands from clawing at his ears. 

"Is mama… " 

"WE PUSHED HER OUT THROUGH THE WARDS" 

"Ahh... I see. " Gregor winced. While mirror wraiths couldn't feel pain in the way that humans could, they were able to experience discomfort. And going through a ward meant to keep mirror wraiths out was extremely uncomfortable, if one even managed to do it in the first place. 

Gregor had, in fact, experienced this very phenomenon himself. The first wards he had ever come across had, in fact, been Helena's. He wasn't nearly as corporeal then as he was now; he had only ever made himself just solid enough to be able to turn pages in books. Which, incidentally, had been what he was searching for. He hadn't known what a ward was at the time, only that he felt peculiar the closer he had gotten to a particular spot. 

Curious, Gregor had pressed forward unrelentingly. He hadn't gotten through, but the more he tried, the more unpleasant things became. Gregor felt, for the first time in his existence, tired. He began to flicker in and out of existence, one moment he was there, the next he wasn't, then he was back again. It had gotten him wondering if there wasn't some circumstance that could cause mirror wraiths to stop existing entirely. After all, there had been a time... 

"Was Mama still there?... After you pushed her through the wards? " 

The twins tilted their heads up at Gregor. "SHE WAS, THEN SHE WASN'T, THEN SHE WAS AGAIN... SHE LOOKED... WEAK. " Two heads dropped back down to stare at the floor. "SHE MIGHT COME BACK.... WE WANT HER BACK.... AND WE DON'T.... " Nearing the end, the twins’ words reverberated into a howl. 

Gregor sat back on his heels. He didn't know what to say? What was there to say that wouldn’t sound empty? 

Shadwell shuffled forward. He had been grappling with seeing the twins like this. Sure, he had seen them transform into some horrific nightmare creature yesterday, but there remained a bit of cognitive dissonance there. Shadwell could look at the horrific two headed thing that now stood (or rather floated) in the place the twins had stood, but it didn't really register that thing what was the twins. 

Now faced with them half grotesque phantom, half recognizable as the littles that Shadwell had come to... tolerate, even the Sargent's defunct brain had to accept that this was what the twins were, a horrific, otherworldly monster. 

The kind of monster Shadwell would happily eradicate from existence, feeling wholeheartedly that he was indeed doing the "right" thing. 

But the monster was also the twins... 

But they were monsters.... 

But they were sad.... 

Shadwell made a choice, and like many other choices in his life, he made it without thinking. 

"It was a hard and noble thing you have done today! ... Err... Yesterday. " With a grunt Shadwell sat with his back against the wall, next to the twins. Close, but not touching. "When a comrade, a trusted comrade betrays the cause, there is nothing more terrible than knowing that you must fight against the very men who once you stood beside in battle! It is… " Shadwell's tone grew surprisingly somber here. "One of the most difficult things one must do. Not just for yourself, but for the good of the organization. And that " 

Shadwell paused as he fiddled a bit with his ratty old coat. Finally he managed to work loose one of his medals (a medal that Shadwell may or may not have bestowed upon himself) and he reached over, holding it over the twin's chest. 

"Should be recognized, and rewarded. So, on behalf of the Witchfinder Army, I present you with this medal for the noble thing you have done. "The Witchfinder pinned on the medal, poking the twins with the sharp bit, but they didn't seem to mind. 

"Does this mean that we're witchfinders now? " one of the twins asked, their voice now much less warped than before. 

"Or do we have to find a witch to be witchfinders? " 

"Do we get neat coats like yours?” 

"Maybe the Sargent Shadwell will let you join once we find Helena. I believe she meets all the criteria of what humans call 'witches'" Gregor offered

Shadwell, pleased that the twins were both looking less despondent and less nightmarish, nodded. "You'll be witchfinders, and get your coats as well" he grunted. "When we find your friend." 

The twins nodded. "Good, "they said in unison, sounding rather tired. "We want Helena back." 

Shadwell grimaced as he felt two heads come to rest on his shoulder and arm. He reached around to pat them awkwardly with his other hand. "We'll find her. "


	340. Chapter 340

Lord Beelzebub was not the Archangel Gabriel's worst enemy. Neither was it any other demon in hell or Satan himself. It wasn't God. It wasn't any of the multitude of prickish angels that resided in Heaven or sloppily filed paperwork. No, the Archangel Gabriel's worst enemy was the Archangel Gabriel. 

The Archangel in question had the idea to pop back into heaven, to talk about some sort of flaw in the paperwork pertaining to the next terrible natural disaster to befall humanity. Beelzebub had thought that it was a rotten idea. Gabriel was strangely fragile these days, and the fly demon didn't think he would be able to survive a meeting with the bastards of heaven unscathed. 

Gabriel, of course, didn't listen to Beelzebub. He had once heard the saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and had somehow cultivated the naive hope that this would apply to him. Surely, Gabriel thought, they would have missed him. 

It turns out that they hadn’t. Gabriel had strode the hallowed halls of heaven, smiling at any angel he encountered. They all looked suddenly constipated and scurried away. They had always done this really, only now Gabriel was painfully aware that it was because they wanted to be as far away from him as possible, and not because they were in awe of his glorious self. 

He hesitated before entering Michael's office. He knocked. (This was a habit that had been taught by Beelzebub through the use of very, very negative reinforcement.) 

He smiled as he walked in, showing all of his perfect white teeth, trying to muster up some of his old confidence. "Michael" he greeted. 

Michael looked up and frowned. "Oh. It’s you. " A flash of alarm crossed the archangel's face. "You're not staying, are you? " 

"No, just dropped by to straighten out something in the last round of paper work you sent me. " 

"Good" replied Michael, motioning for him to sit in one of the sleek chairs before the desk. 

Gabriel was still smiling as he sat, but it felt as of the insides of his corporation had been scooped out. He smiled through the meeting, and as he walked down the pristine white halls, his shoes clacking against the polished hallway. This had once been his home. He had taken pride in the order and purity of it all. Now it just seemed empty. White walls, and self-righteousness, and angels who couldn't stand him offered no comfort. 

The Archangel Gabriel suddenly wanted to be back in Hell. 

As soon as he returned, he threw himself across as his bed like the protagonist in the sort of angsty teen movie he definitely had never watched. 

He didn't hear the door creak open, or notice the presence of a demon standing over him. Gabriel only stirred when an extremely large fly began to nudge his hand angrily buzzing. 

He reached a hand out to give it a scritch at the juncture where its head met its furry little back. 

"It didn't go well? " Beelzebub said from where she was regally perched on a lavender armchair next to the bed. 

Gabriel sat up, hunching in on himself, cradling Bathsheba the fly to his chest like something delicate and precious. 

"Everything is terrible now. Everything used to be great, and I was great. Now I know things, and everything is terrible. " Gabriel paused to gather his thoughts, such as they were. He gently stroked the top of Bathsheba's head, as he raised his head to look at Beelzebub "No one likes you and your existence is dreadful; how do you cope? " 

The prince of Hell snorted. "Copiousssszzzzz amountsszzzz of liquor. " 

Gabriel scrunched up his nose. "Disgusting. You and Aziraphale and your consumption of gross matter. Speaking of Aziraphale, did you know that Michael said he was looking for me? Michael didn't take the call personally, of course; it was passed on from... " 

"Aziraphale called you? " Beelzebub interrupted. "What did he want?" 

"How should I know?" For a moment Gabriel sounded like his old arrogant self. "I can't imagine what the Principality would want. " 

Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, watching as Gabriel petted a non-Bathsheba approved spot and the fly angrily buzzed. 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it hazzzzz to do with the little demon you seem zzzzzzzoooo fond of, you know Crowley? Formerly Raphael? Apparently. Maybe he wants to see you for reasonsssszzzz unfathomable to me. Or maybe the idiot has got himself in some sort of trouble, wouldn't surprisszzzze me.... " 

Gabriel jumped up. Bathsheba, who had settled back in to the Archangel's petting, flew up, buzzing furiously. By the time the outraged fly settled back into its nest atop Beelzebub's head, Gabriel was out the door. 

Beelzebub waited a few moments, staring at the empty doorway, eyebrow still raised. Gabriel poked his head back in. 

"Come on! "he said impatiently. 

Beelzebub did not move. 

"Come on! " Gabriel strode over, practically vibrating with impatience. He leaned over the seated Beelzebub, "We need to go! Baby Raphie might be in trouble! " 

"You don't know that…" Beelzebub began. 

"You don't know he isn't! Something terrible could be happening to him! Right this minute! And the Principality obviously can't handle it! He's practically a minor angel! Useless!" Gabriel sniffed. "So, " he said, all his white, white teeth bared in an increasingly manic smile. "I'm going to save baby Raphie, and then he's going to love me and look up at me with adoring golden eyes like he used to, and for a single beautiful moment in the divine chaos that is the creation of a God that doesn't love me, everything will be alright. " 

Gabriel had been pressing his face closet and closer to the impassive Beelzbub as he spoke. Now he straightened, cleared his throat and, sounding significantly less intense, said "Come on! " then turned on the heel of a well-polished shoe, and strode back out the door. 

Gabriel, Beelzebub decided, was going off the deep end and absolutely nothing good could come of this. She stood, and followed the archangel out. Not because he had told her to, and definitely not because she was going to make certain he did nothing too regrettable while he was out of his angelic mind. She followed him simply because she wanted to witness the most likely deliciously entertaining shit show that would inevitably ensue.


	341. Chapter 341

Aziraphale fretted. Gregor and Shadwell still weren't back. The twins remained in the mirror realm as well, and Heaven knew where Helena was. (Not of course literally, Heaven was entirely unconcerned with missing mirror wraiths.) 

The remaining occupants of the bookshop tried very hard to be useful in some way, or at least to feel they were being useful. Jack, Hastur, Ligur, and a sleeping Eddie were upstairs, waiting for the return of Gregor and Shadwell, hopefully with the twins and Helena in tow. Newt, Anathema, Madam Tracy, Aziraphale and Crowley had gone down to the bookshop to search through Aziraphale's secret backroom of especially occult books. They were all now carefully looking through them for any accounts of a human who had survived possession. 

Crowley had been affixed on Aziraphale’s hip all day. The angel knew that Crowley didn't feel nearly as little as he was treating him. However, Aziraphale... Aziraphale needed this. He needed to be able to coddle Crowley, because so long as he could coo and take care of his darling little snake the growing panic couldn't overwhelm him. Crowley's presence was what Crowley's presence always was: comforting. In 6000 years of endless chaos and change, Crowley was his one consistent. 

He knew the demon must be terribly bored. Crowley hadn't slipped into the comforting lull of little space; and yet he didn't leave Aziraphale's cloying grasp. Crowley always seemed to know exactly what Aziraphale needed. 

At first, Crowley had tried to help with the research. However, the demon was absolute rubbish at it, and the way he scowled down at Aziraphale's precious books quite frankly made the angel nervous. So Crowley gave up. With some gentle encouragement from Aziraphale, he laid his head on his angel's shoulder, doing what he always did when he was bored or anxious. 

Crowley snorted gently in his sleep, dropping the pacifier Aziraphale had given him out of his mouth. The angel paused in his research, and was about to put it back in, when Crowley flicked out his snaky tongue, then buried his face in Aziraphale's neck, sleepily gnawing on the pointy bits of the angel's collar. It was so absolutely adorable that Aziraphale just let him continue, not particularly minding that his nice pale pink shirt was being liberally slobbered upon. 

Aziraphale beamed up at the others, as if to say " look! Look here! Isn’t my demon adorable? "

Madam Tracy and Newt cooed with the appropriate level of adoration. Anathema, however, did not. She looked at Crowley for a split second before pressing her lips in a thin line and looking firmly back down at the book she had been looking through. 

Aziraphale was a bit put out that she apparently not only found his precious baby less than adorable, but off putting. He was going to say something to her, (though he wasn't quite sure what) when he was interrupted by his name being called from outside the shop. 

The angel stood, readjusting Crowley on his hip. He tried to peek out the window, but it was covered in a thin layer of dust (kept there purposefully to dissuade customers) and he had no luck. He opened the door to the shop just a crack, and there, a few feet away from his doorstep, standing in the summer sun were the archangel Gabriel and Beelzebub, prince of Hell. 

"Oh dear, " the angel murmured, opening the door a little bit more: this was all they needed. 

"Principality Aziraphale!" boomed out Gabriel. "I have come to save Raphael! " 

Crowley, who was now awake, rubbed some of the drool off his chin, then looked askance at the archangel. "Save me from what?" 

Gabriel's smile faltered for a second. "I don't know, whatever you need saving from. The Principality Aziraphale phoned heaven looking for me, and obviously I knew that you must be in trouble that Aziraphale, being a lesser angel, couldn’t handle. So, I have come to save you." 

"I never..- " began Aziraphale. 

"I did. " Crowley looked quite sheepish, "I just thought that maybe… maybe Gabriel might have been able to help with the exorcism. And I couldn't ussssse my own name angel! I couldn’t just say "Hello Heaven this isssss the demon Crowley calling" could I! " 

"Help with an exorcism?" Gabriel zeroed in on that bit like maggots on roadkill. " Is it those two demons we left here last time that you need exorcised? The frog demons? Are they causing you trouble baby Raphie?" 

"Lizzzzzard" Beelzebub interjected. 

"What? " Gabriel turned to her, confused. 

"Ligur is a Lizzzzzzard, not a frog. " 

"Oh, is the other one. a lizard too? " 

"No, a toad." 

"Oh. " 

"I do hate to interrupt", said Aziraphale who really didn't, "but um, the exorcism is over and it wasn't Ligur and Hastur we were trying to be rid if in the first place. Everything is perfectly fine now. All tickety boo. So if you two could just.. " 

" 's not fine angel! Helena is still missing!" 

"I can help with that! " Gabriel bellowed, happy to zero in on some way he could save the day. 

Aziraphale looked from his darling demon to the over-eager Archangel and sighed. He let down the wards around the bookshop and steeped aside, and with a tone of pure resignation said "You’d best come in then. "


	342. Chapter 342

They all watched Gabriel's back as the archangel barreled into the mirror.

"Oh dear, " said Aziraphale.

Beelzebub made herself at home in a worn plush armchair facing the mirror.

After a moment of silence, Madam Tracy spoke. "Aren't you going in after him, dear? "

In all the many, many, many years of Beelzebub's existence, no one had ever called her "dear" The Prince of Hell raised an eyebrow. "No. I'm not that idiot'sszzzzz keeper. " (This was something of a lie, and Beelzebub knew it)

She miracled up a glass of wine and a few of the many, many reports she still needed to get through. (These particular reports were from 1860. Hell was always slightly behind with their paperwork) "If he wants to get his stupid assszzzz lost in that wretched mazzzzze, that'sszz hisszzzz problem. " And besides, even if Beelzebub decided to be merciful and rescue the moron, she wouldn't go in herself. That's what minions were for, after all.

"Ahhh... so will you be staying here then? " Aziraphale asked, not quite certain what answer he was hoping for.

Beelzebub looked up from the report on that year's demonic inspiration of writers she had been reading. "Yesssszzzzz. "

Aziraphale cleared his throat and shifted the demon in his arms. "Would you like anything? A drink or.. Ummm.. something else perhaps? "

Beelzebub pointedly raised the glass of wine to her lips.

"Ah... Alright then. If um... You're fine up here, ah.... We'll just be going downstairs to um... Do what we were doing before.. "

Beelzebub made a noncommittal buzz and waved them away dismissively.

For a few blissful minutes, the Prince of Hell enjoyed the peace and quiet and relative cleanliness of somewhere that wasn't Hell. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something familiar.

She peered over her paperwork to take in the still forms of her former employees on the sofa adjacent to her.

Hastur sat on Ligur's lap, both demons wide eyed and un moving, like deer caught in the headlights of a speeding Bentley.

For the first time in a long time Beelzebub looked, really looked, at Hastur and Ligur. They both looked... surprisingly well. Ligur had shed his usual (weapon filled) layers, and was wearing a simple reddish orange undershirt, black cargo trousers and combat boots. Hastur looked like he had taken a bath sometime this century. Beelzebub also, mercifully, could not smell him from where she was sitting.

He wore clean clothes that didn't look like he had found them by scrounging in a dumpster, a black shirt with some sort of odd, elongated frog on the front and khaki shorts, the crotch obviously rounded out by the thick bulge of a diaper. He wasn't wearing shoes, but fluffy green socks. And most notable of all was the frog themed- pacifier firmly placed in the demon's mouth. That... That was a sight Beelzebub had never thought she would see. It was one thing to know that Hastur was a Little, but another entirely to see him sitting on Ligur's lap, diapered and holding a weird looking frog plush.

A sudden wave of jealousy washed over her. A life outside of Hell. A life beyond the endless rotting and paperwork and misery that was their divine punishment. Then Beelzebub pictured herself aimlessly wandering around Earth for the rest of eternity filling her days with pointless indulgences, or worse settling down somewhere and becoming *shudder* domestic. And just like that, the wave of jealously retreated. Existence for the Prince of Hell seemed pointless without minions to terrorize and evil plans to plot.

Speaking of minions, Beelzebub turned to the two demons on the sofa watching her with trepidation. "At leassszzzzzt you finally found a way to stop him from pissszzzzing on everything. "

Hastur gave an angry grunt, but was quickly silenced by Ligur. "You, knew about that? " Ligur asked, his voice measured.

Beelzebub narrowed her eyes. "There were complaintssszzzzzz. "

"I... We.. " Ligur tried, but Beelzebub held up a hand.

"I don't care. At firssszzzt I wasssszzzz irritated to lose two soldiers; however, it turnssszzz out that you two aren't much of a lossszzzz after all. So, assszzzzz far as I'm concerned, you two can spend the rest of your miserable existencessszzzz up here doing…" here she made a vague gesture towards both of them. "Thissszzzz. Now, be quiet, so I can do my paperwork in peace. "

Ligur almost said "thank you" but at the last minute though better of it. Hastur grumped, because he had been watching Kermit before he had been so rudely interrupted. Hastur didn't get a chance to work himself up into too much of a sulk however, as Jack strode back into the room, freshly changed Eddie on his hip, and plopped himself down onto the sofa.

The mirror wraith leaned over towards Beelzebub, his grin stretching almost literally from ear to ear, and said " Hello"

Beelzebub resisted the temptation to bang her head against the wall. She should have known those few precious moments of silence were too good to last.

Jack leaned closer, peering curiously up at the large fly perched on Beelzebub's head. Bathsheba buzzed angerly, causing Hastur's head toad to begin a round of sympathetic toad screaming, none of which seemed to deter the curious mirror wraith in the least Beelzebub closed her eyes. This was going to be a long day


	343. Chapter 343

Gabriel had, in fact, gotten his stupid ass lost, not that he would have phrased it in that particular manner, of course. 

He had expected to step into the mirror realm, then snap his fingers and miracle up this 'Helena". 

He had stepped into the mirror realm, snapped his fingers aaaannnddd Helena had not appeared. 

Gabriel thought about going back. Obviously, something was wrong with this place. It definitely wasn't him. However, going back to Baby Raphie Helena-less felt distinctly like yet another failure in what was getting to be a rather long stretch of them. And Gabriel couldn't do it, he just couldn't face failing again. So, the archangel ventured a little further into the mirror realm, peeking into rooms whose doors hung off their hinges, stepping over the debris that scattered the floor. (Really, Gabrielle was not impressed with this place and would be sure to give it a one-star rating and a scathing review in Heaven's database.) Every so often he would snap his fingers, once more trying to miracle this "Helena " to him. And every time he failed. 

As he walking down the seemingly endless hallway, he stopped as a single terrible thought occurred to him.

You see, one of the only things that Gabriel had going for him since his unfortunate realizations about God and Heaven and the terrible state of existence in general, was the tentative rekindling of his relationship with his dear Baby Raphael. So, he had been putting in an earnest effort not to completely fuck it up. He had downloaded and read all of the e-books on Littles he could find with five-star ratings. And, surprisingly, he had actually learned things. One of these things was that Littles often liked to name, and grow attached to, inanimate objects. So, what if "Helena" wasn't a sentient being at all, but a blanket or a table or a light purple suede shoe with a sensible kitten heel. (Like the ones that Gabriel most definitely did not have tucked in the very back of his closet.) 

Gabriel frowned, his brow creasing with worry. He needed to do this right. He needed to come back with "Helena", whoever or whatever that was. He needed his little Raphie to love and adore him again. So, the archangel steeled himself and went on. 

He eventually came to a black and white room that looked like a nursery. Raphael was a baby! Raphael liked black and white! (Gabriel was pretty sure) Therefore this must be Raphael's room! (Here Gabriel congratulated himself on his excellent deductive skills) Maybe 

Raphie had lost his Helena in here. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It had to work this time. If it didn't, Gabriel resolved to disappear forever to the vast maze of the mirror realm, shame and failure his always companions. He opened his eyes. Nothing. 

Gabriel hesitated. Wandering the mirror realm for eternity mired in shame and failure didn't actually seem all that appealing. Maybe he'd give it one more try? 

He ended up giving it six more. Until one of his miracles finally bore (metaphorical and non-forbidden) fruit. Before him sat a large black beanbag chair. Gabriel blinked down at it frowning. (It should be noted that this beanbag had previously been in the corner of the nursery so Gabriel had succeeded in miracling it all of five feet) He poked it with the toe of one shiny shoe. Obviously, this must be Helena, the Archangel thought; there could be no other possibility. 

Gabriel bent down and hefted the thing over his shoulder, tired of miracles for the first time in his existence. The thing was awkward and lumpy. It was an odd choice for Raphael to be so attached to as to name. But, if his baby Raphie wanted a lumpy old beanbag chair so much, a lumpy old beanbag chair he would get. Gabriel would get Raphael the moon if he wanted. Literally. (Though he might have to shrink it a bit, if Raphael wanted to keep it indoors.) 

Gabriel trotted out of the nursery with a smile, picturing the look of adoration baby Raphie would give him when he returned triumphant. 

He looked down one end of the hall, then the other. Now, which way had he come down again?


	344. Chapter 344

It took Gabriel longer than he'd care to admit to find his way out of the mirror realm. But eventually he meandered his way back to the sitting room and found the mirror that he had entered through. 

The first thing he saw on his return to the non-mirror world was Beelzebub looking annoyed. "It took you long enough. " she hissed. Bathsheba buzzed angrily from her nest atop the demon's head. 

Gabriel just beamed at the Prince of Hell. "Where's baby Raphie?" 

Beelzebub shot him what might be politely called a death glare. "He'ssszzzzz sleeping. It issszzzzz night now. " she gestured to a window. Gabriel looked out. It was, in fact, night judging by the darkness pressing itself against the window. However, the archangel was undeterred by the late hour. As adorable as Raphael looked asleep, he didn't really need to do so. Not in the way humans did. So, Gabriel pressed on. "Where does he sleep? " 

Beelzebub paused for minute. The demon suspected that Gabriel was going to barge in causing trouble and chaos. If she was a different demon, Beelzebub might have smiled. "Second door on the left. " 

Gabriel’s beaming smile grew in its shiny white intensity, and he abruptly turned and made his way down the hall. 

Excitedly, he flung the door open. It hit the bookshelf behind it with enough force to rattle Aziraphale's bric-a-brac and a couple of Crowley's smaller house plants in very breakable porcelain pots dangerously close to the edge of their shelves. 

A bleary "Whaaaa? " was all Crowley managed to get out before he found himself suddenly smothered by a large black bean bag. 

The demon flailed and clawed, finally managing to worm his way out from under the thing enough so that he could see over the top to glare at the beaming Archangel. "What'sssssssss thisssssssss! " he hissed, narrowing his yellow eyes at the offending beauroacrat. "It's Helena of course silly Raphie! " 

Crowley's single, overworked braincell had no hope of coping with this statement, so the demon was just left gaping at the archangel, large yellow eyes staring uncomprehendingly. 

"That" stated a rather irritable Aziraphale, who was sitting up in bed now and pulling his snaky darling out from under the weight of the beanbag, "is not Helena, you great idiot! Helena is a mirror wraith. She's dark and tall and vaguely human shaped! She is definitely not a glorified potato sack! Really! " the angel huffed, irate. 

The world weighed 

13,170,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 pounds (or 5,974,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 kilograms). Gabriel knew this; the figure had appeared on paper work that had crossed his desk several times, and right now he could feel every ounce of that 13,170,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 pounds pressing down on his chest. He forgot how to make his corporation breathe. He had failed. 

He had failed baby Raphie. He had failed Lucifer. He had failed God. He had failed to start the apocalypse and to realize that God had replaced Raphael with another, lesser version. He had failed to find the right Helena, and make Raphie love him. He had failed. And failure must be punished. 

Gabriel turned sharply on his heel and wordlessly walked out of the bedroom. He passed Beelzebub, who was finding this situation much less amusing than she had thought it would be. He walked through the sitting room and downstairs past shelves and shelves of the Principality's pointless books. Then the archangel Gabriel walked out the back door.


	345. Chapter 345

Gabriel had intended to follow his original plan: wander forever with the weight of his failure and the crushing shame that accompanied it. 

However, as of this moment he had only made it as far as Aziraphale's back stoop. 

The archangel sat, his head hung, his neatly pressed gray trousers being dirtied by whatever filth he was sure covered the steps. For once, he wasn't in the mood to care about his sartorial state. 

It might have been minutes or hours before Gabriel heard the door open behind him. He knew he should move. He knew he should have moved a long time ago. He didn't want to be seen here, like this. But he just couldn't bring himself to try and lift his heavy limbs and move his feet to walk out into the night. 

Gabriel could see pale feet with black varnished toenails out of the corner of his eyes. He knew those feet, though in heaven the nails had been unpainted and shimmered slightly golden in the sunlight. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Go away. Don't look at me. I'm a failure. A great big failure who failed." 

Raphael did not leave. Instead he sat his diapered bottom down on the step beside Gabriel with a slight squish, and for a while the both of them sat silent. The night air was warm and it reminded Gabriel of better times sitting side by side with Raphael like this staring up at the stars he had created. Gabriel looked up. His eyes burned, and he thought his corporation must be malfunctioning again. There were no stars now. Which Gabriel found somehow fitting. 

"It isssssn't so bad, you know. " 

Gabriel looked, confused, to Raphael. 

Raphael shrugged. "Being a failure. I've found it quite nice, actually " 

"Nice, " Gabriel repeated, his voice lacking any of its usual idiotic excitement. 

"Yea, nice. I mean, I was rubbisssssh at my job. Which mean I didn't actually have to do my job, which suited me down to the ground. And, letssssssss see... I violated Hell's whole no fraternizing with angelssss rule. Which turned out to be one of the bessssst thingsssss I've ever done. And the apocalypse? Ya, totally buggered that up. Lost the Antichrist. That all worked itself out in the end though… " 

Gabriel sounded an unpleasant mix of resigned and confused when he asked. "What are you talking about? " 

Crowley pouted. "My point is" he huffed. 'Sometimes good thingsssss can happen when you royally fuck up. It'sssss not all black and white like heaven says it is. There isn't good and bad not really. There are jussssst... " He paused, scrunching his face up in thought. "Beings and they do things and the terms "good" is given to actionssss that we like and " bad" is given to actionsssss that we don't. It's all bloody arbitrary. It is. All your good is, is what God wanted. God said the flood was "Good" because She wanted it! And the genocide and the plagues and that time she sent a bear to slaughter children because they made fun of a bald guy. All Good!" (Crowley was quite proud of his little speech, he though he sounded quite clever, almost... Philosophical. He thought his angel would approve.)

"So, what you’re saying is," said Gabriel, who had been listening quite intently, "I should find some else's idea of good and evil to follow? " 

Crowley groaned. "Nooooooo no no! You should make up your own. Make your own decisions. Choose for yourself. " 

"But if everyone did that there would be... no order, no greater good. No defining purpose." 

"Exactly" 

"That sounds terrifying" 

Crowley nudged himself closer to the horrified archangel. "It'sssss alright. You'll see. We'll ssssstart ssssssmall yea? Uhhmmmmm.... Me! Right! You like me yea? " 

Gabriel nodded. "Of course. You're my baby Raphie. " 

Crowley gave a pleased little tongue flick despite himself. 

"Soooo don't hurt me. That would be bad. Annddd give me lotsssss of tummy rubs and presentssss. That would be good. (Crowley was, he though slyly to himself, still a demon after all.) Oh! And Angel. You wouldn't hurt Aziraphale would you? Not again? " 

'Not again' was said in a much harsher tone than the rest, and it made something inside Gabriel's corporation squirm. 

"I have never hurt the principality! " 

Crowley glared at him through slitted yellow eyes. "You tried to have him executed. ‘Shut up and die already!’ Sssssound familiar?" 

"It wasn't my choice!" Gabriel bellowed. "I... I didn't want to execute the principality Aziraphale. I always thought he was a nice, funny little angel. But he was a traitor! He had to be executed! And then I wanted him gone and it over and done with because it was making my corporation's head hurt and... And it was making me think.... " Gabriel trailed off, and suddenly he felt very far away from Raphael and this porch and this night. "... I... I won't hurt Aziraphale, " he said quietly after some time. 

Crowley made a small "guuuh" noise. Then "I'm hungry" 

"What? " asked Gabriel, trying to remember to which gross bodily function "hungry" correlated. 

"I'm hungry" Crowley repeated again. "I want fooooood. I want a bottle!" 

"Oh alright, why don't you go back inside and have Aziraphale miracle you one?" 

"Nooooooo" Crowley whined. "I want yooooouuuu to make it for me. And I want you to feeeeeeed it to meeee. " He stood up and tugged at one of Gabriel’s big hands. "Come oooooonnnnnn! " he whined. 

Gabriel thought that he should stay out here in the dark some more and be sad and miserable and repentant like he deserved to be, but Baby Raphie was looking up at him with pleading yellow eyes.... And, well, Gabriel never had quite managed to refuse Baby Raphie anything. So, the archangel stood up, miracled the dirt off his slacks, and followed his dear little Raphie back inside.


	346. Chapter 346

As soon as they had returned upstairs, they were greeted with an annoyed-looking Beelzebub who immediately made her way to the archangel. She stared at him for a moment, then she crooked a finger, motioning for him to bend down. 

Once Gabriel was at eye level she said, in a disturbingly calm voice. "If you ever run off like that again. I will come after you. Not Crowley, me. And neither of us want that. Do you understand? " 

Gabriel stared blankly at her with violet eyes. 

"DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. " 

Gabriel nodded. Beelzebub seemed satisfied with this and returned to her seat by one of the humans without another word. 

The threat had, oddly enough, made Gabriel feel warm and fuzzy inside. (He suspected his corporation was growing mold.) Beelzebub cared enough to go after him, even if it was for, no doubt, evil intentions, it was more than anyone in heaven had ever done for him. 

Raphael tugged on his shirt sleeve. "I'm hungrrryyyyyyy. I wannaaaaa bottle!" His little tongue flicked in and out of his mouth adorably. !

Aziraphale rushed over, scooping Raphie up and away from Gabriel. "I'll get you a bottle, dear boy. " 

Crowley wriggled in Aziraphale's arms. " Nooooooo, I want Gabriel to make it! " 

"I can, ah... Miracle it right up!” Gabriel went to snap his fingers. 

"Nooooooo! " Crowley cried out. "I want you to make it! The human way. " 

Gabriel looked puzzled. 

"It tastesssss better" Crowley whined. "Papa... "said Crowley, looking up at Aziraphale though long lashes. "Will you teach him how to make it.... Pleeeeassssssse? " 

Aziraphale and Gabriel shared a look. Both knew their fate. 

"Of course, dear. " Aziraphale sighed, petting Crowley's diapered bottom. "But first let's get you changed." The angel strode with purpose towards their bedroom, leaving an awkward archangel standing in the sitting room.


	347. Chapter 347

Crowley plopped the beanbag in a nice corner surrounded by his plants. All of his usual cuddling partners were unavailable. Aziraphale and Gabriel were in the kitchen make him a bottle. Jack and Eddie were cuddled up together on a chair, and Eddie was sleeping, so they were out. He definitely wasn't going to sit with Hastur and Ligur. The twins, Gregor, Helena and even that draft old bugger Shadwell, well.... Crowley? Crowley didn't want to think about them. It made him sick to his poor little snaky tummy. He wished they'd all come back...

That left Madam Tracy. (and he supposed Newt and Anathema, but he didn't know where they were and didn't fancy a cuddle from either of them anyway.) Unfortunately, Madam Tracy was currently having tea with his former Hellish boss (pun intended) and Crowley couldn't bear the thought of having a nice snuggle under the beady eyes of Beelzebub. So, the demon had dragged out the beanbag chair that Gabriel had thought was Helena (for reasons that Crowley didn't dare to contemplate.) He plopped his freshly diapered bottom down in the cushy bean bag. And immediately jumped back up, hissing in displeasure.

"What's wrong? "

Crowley whirled around to find a nervous looking Newt behind him. "Where did you come from? "

Newt put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Um.. Just downstairs. Anathema wanted to go through some more books and I thought I'd get us some tea. "

"Oh" Crowley grumped.

"So... Um.... What was wrong? " Newt asked quietly.

"That" Crowley hissed pointed at the beanbag. "It'ssss lumpy"

"Oh, uh... Let me try" Newt sat down and made a face. "I think there's something inside. "

Crowley scrunched up his "What? "

Newt crouched down on the floor next to the beanbag and began looking for the zip. "I um... won't know till I get it out. "

Crowley grumped, but crossed his arms and waited as patiently as a demon could for Newt to retrieve a cloth-wrapped bundle that had been nestled inside of the beanbag. He began to peel away the layers of cloth, that Crowley now recognized as some of Eddie's t-shirts, revealing a medium- sized black Bakelite mirror.

"That's a mirror. " Jack said helpfully.

Crowley jumped. He hadn't realized that Jack had crept up behind him to watch. When Crowley looked around, he noted that Hastur and Ligur were peering at them from the sofa, and Madam Tracy and Beelzebub were staring over their wine goblets.

Crowley turned his attention back to the mirror, who's back surface seemed to be rippling now. He could almost swear he heard a faint rapping coming from inside the mirror.

There it was again, louder this time. And then a very faint muffled scream came from the mirror.

Newt dropped it, and for a moment Crowley was petrified that it would shatter, releasing whatever horrors hidden inside. He bit down on the thumb he hadn't realized he was sucking. Luckily, it landed with a muffled thump on the pile of Eddie's shirts, and no damage seemed to be done.

"It's Helena!" Jack cried. Shoving a sleepy and bewildered Eddie into Crowley's arms. Jack then made a dive for the mirror.

Newt tried to keep it out of his grasp. "We don't know... " he huffed out, holding the mirror aloft. But Jack's arms were unnaturally long and his strength much more than that of poor confused Newt's, so Jack emerged from the short struggle triumphant.

His hands seemed to twitch in and out of existence as they began to paw at the glass of the mirror. It looked, painful, or at least extremely uncomfortable judging by the look on Jack's ever-smiling face. His entire body seemed to glitch in and out now like static on an old TV as he tore away at the black mirror. Little black strips began to come away from the mirror. Jack's form writhed and pulsed. Crowley blinked, and Jack's facial features receded into the twisting dark mass that was his true face. Crowley blinked again, and Jack was back, his weird smile still plastered on his pained face.

The more of the black substance that came off the mirror, the louder that the rapping and shrieking became.Crowley felt Eddie tremble in his arms. "Is it Mama? " he whispered. Crowley clutched Eddie tighter. "I don't know," he whispered back.

Newt pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Jack, maybe we should stop and think about this... " but it was too late. With one ear piercing shriek and a rush of fluid, darkness poured out of the mirror.


	348. Chapter 348

Aziraphale bustled around the kitchen, gathering together the ingredients for this "milk". Even Gabriel could feel the coldness radiating from the Principality. He supposed he had never realized just how nice the angel had been on his previous visits. 

"Now you pour the milk in the pan... " 

"I'm.... sorry. " 

The spoon Aziraphale had been holding clattered to the counter. The angel turned slowly, his disbelieving eyes now locked on Gabriel. 

"Pardon me? " 

Gabriel's corporation's mouth went dry and suddenly he found it very hard to speak. "I... I am sorry.... for, you know, the whole trying to execute you by Hellfire thing. " Gabriel beamed his shiniest smile at the Principality. 

Aziraphale was gobsmacked. "I don't know what to say. " 

"I believe the correct answer is ‘I forgive you’" Gabriel informed him helpfully, still smiling. This was it. This was where Gabriel attained absolution. (at least for this particular sin.) Aziraphale would forgive him and he could finally feel better. 

Aziraphale blinked, stunned by the audacity. Though he really shouldn't have been, this was Gabriel after all. 

"I don't. " 

"Don't what? " Gabriel was confused, this hadn’t gone like he had thought it would. 

"I don't forgive you. " Aziraphale sounded more resolute this time. "I don't forgive you for trying to execute me and I don't forgive you for being wretched and condescending all the centuries I worked for you and I don't forgive you for telling me to, as you so eloquently put it "lose the gut" I like my gut thank you very much you.... You.... pompous bastard! "

Aziraphale immediately put a hand to his mouth. "Oh dear. " 

Gabriel's smile had completely vanished now and he looked quite devastated. It was odd having his words have so much power over the archangel. It was almost satisfying, after so much time spent feeling so belittled by the archangel. However, Aziraphale was soft, and he never did care for suffering, even if it was Gabriel's. 

"I don't forgive you, and I won't absolve you of what you've done." Gabriel's face fell even further and he looked as if he were going to say something, plead with the angel maybe. But Aziraphale raised a single chubby finger to stop him. "However, my dearest Crowley sees something in you. Something worth knowing. And you have, certainly changed. And if you keep changing, I think that someday you might be someone whom I could... call a friend. " 

Gabriel blinked his big violet eyes at the Principality, his mind churned trying desperately to decide what to think about this new development. Oh, it had been so much easier when he hadn't had to do his thinking for himself. 

"Friends someday.... but not today, " he said slowly. 

Aziraphale looked both exasperated and amused. "Not today" he said resolutely, and turned back to the counter, picking up the pint of milk and holding it out for Gabriel to take. "Now, you pour the milk into the saucepan... " Aziraphale directed, but his cookery lesson was once again cut short. Though, this time not by apologizing archangels, but by a scream that quite literally shook the walls.


	349. Chapter 349

The whirling void of darkness and anger currently hovering in the sitting room screamed. And Jack screamed back at it.   
Crowley blinked. Was that some sort of power move? Was Jack trying to assert dominance or something? 

The mirror wraith shrieked back at Jack. Crowley couldn't tell if this was Mama. To him one mirror wraith looked very like another.  
  
Jack had screamed again, and the mirror wraith had seemed to still, tilting its head curiously. It let out a short growl-shriek and Jack gave a guttural moan in return. It occurred to Crowley for the first time that they were speaking. That this peculiar series of howls and screams and growls meant something. It was odd, Crowley thought, not knowing a language. He felt confused and helpless, and he clutched Eddie tighter and sucked furiously on his thumb. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder draw him back protectively into a soft chest, and he didn't need to turn around to know that this was his angel. 

They all watched as the mirror wraith slowly morphed into something significantly more human- looking. At the first sight of dark braids, Eddie called out, " 'elena", his words slurring. 

Braids whipped around as she sharply turned to face them. In a few long strides, she had crossed the room. Helena placed her hands on either side of Eddie's face and stared at him for a long time as if she was looking for something. 

" 'sss me. Mama's gone. I made her leave my head and then the twins... The twins they made her leave too. " He nodded, his shaggy hair falling in his face. 

Something in Helena's dark gaze softened. "I know, sweetheart. I know. You did so very well. " She kissed him gently on the forehead, then embraced both Crowley and Eddie. She flickered back and forth, hints of her true form rising to the surface only to fall back under. 

"I suppose we should tell the twins, then." Jack was still sitting on the floor by Newt, his long limbs twisted underneath him at unnatural angles. He began patting his pockets, until he found what he was searching for. A small pocket mirror was produced from the breast pocket of his orange and green stripped shirt.   
He opened it up tapping the glass relentlessly for a few minutes. Then something happened and he began speaking into the mirror..   
"Helena's here.... No.... In a mirror.... I don't know, but she's here. " The conversation seemed to end, and Jack snapped the mirror shut. 

"You had that the entire time? You could have gotten into contact with Shadwell or the others at any time in the past couple of days? " Madame Tracy looked like she was trying very hard not to be cross. 

".... Yes? " Jack answered, looking sheepish.   
Madam Tracy pressed her lips into a thin line.

"But they are coming now aren't they dear? They're coming back now? " 

"Yes." Jack sounded more certain this time. His smile appeared to be, for once, because he was genuinely pleased, and not because he simply couldn't figure out how to produce any other facial expressions. 

Madam Tracy looked relieved, and she nodded. 

It was a little less than a half an hour, judging by the ancient grandfather clock Aziraphale kept in the corner, until a tangle of curly-haired twins spilled forth from the mirror. They appeared to ebb and flow becoming conjoined and faceless then splitting apart to run a few feet until they bumped into one another and became conjoined once more. This process repeated until they got to Helena, who had stood and now held her arms open to greet them. 

The twins pounced on her and she fell back onto the sofa. They flickered into a swirling black mass of darkness and shrieking and existential terror; and it was truly heartwarming. 

Madam Tracy stepped forward to look her wayward Sargent over. She noted the missing medal. She placed her hand gently over the empty spot. " Oh, what happened here, dear? " 

Shadwell sniffed. "I awarded it to junior members of the Organization for Commitment to the Greater Good. "  
  
"Uh huh... Did you now dear? " Madam Tracy said as she attempted to translate. She followed his gaze to the twins, who had settled into more human forms. She spied a glimmer of metal on one of their chests and suddenly she remembered exactly why she was so fond of this daft, troublesome old man. The Scarlet Woman placed a hand on the empty space on his chest where the medal once been and smiled "How very noble of you." The Sargent puffed out his chest. 

Hastur grunted from the sofa, wiggling in Ligur's arms, making his wretched frog squeals. Ligur, adept by now at figuring out the source of his little toad's tantrums, gestured that Gregor, who had been lingering back by the mirror should come over and sit with them. 

Crowley laid his head on his angel's shoulder and surveyed the happy reunions. He flicked his tongue happily. Once again, they had narrowly avoided disaster and come out completely unscathed.... Except for Eddie, who still looked pretty rough and could barely stand...And the twins, who'd been unforgettably betrayed by their Mama.... And Gabriel who was still looking pretty melancholic.... 

But other than that they were fine. Perfectly fine. 

Happy endings all round. 


	350. Chapter 350

Helena patted the twins’ backs. "Why don't we get you two to bed, then? I'll read you a nice bedtime story, Murders in the Rue Morgue perhaps? " 

"No." the twins answered in unison. 

That was peculiar. The twins usually enjoyed both sleep and bedtime stories, especially Murders in the Rue Morgue. 

"You don't want to sleep then? " 

"We want to sleep with you. " 

That was peculiar too, not that Helena was complaining. The twins always slept in their own crib. She said nothing, though. 

It had been a rather difficult time for all of them lately, and Helena wanted to home so very badly. She stroked their hair. "Of course, sweethearts. You can sleep with me." 

Helena moved to get up off the sofa, the twins still making adorable nuisances of themselves by clinging to her. She had retreated back to the mirror realm the first chance she had gotten after all the explanations had been given and copious amounts of tea had been drunk. She loved the bookshop and everyone in it, but she wanted to be back in her home. The home she had created. Even if it was in disarray and stank of "Mama". It was still here, and still hers, (and now wonderfully Mama-less) and in time it would once again be set to rights. 

Each twin nuzzled their faces into her neck. She took them into their nursery first, deftly stepping over the clothes and dismembered doll parts that littered their floor. She laid one on the changing table and left the other free to bustle around picking out the plush toys and dolls that they wanted to clutter her bed with that night. 

Changing the twins was familiar, comforting. It lulled to sleep the residual anger and hopelessness that had consumed her while she was trapped. She was here. The twins were here. Mama was gone. She was home. 

Helena drew out the motions of the diaper change for as long as she could, slathering them with every cream and lotion and powder they owned. 

Having no supplies for the twins in her room since they rarely spent time there, she packed a diaper bag. 

The twins gripped her skirts as they walked down the halls. Helena's dark eyes swept the halls and peeked in open doors taking in the wreckage and making certain that there was no trace of Mama left. 

Her room remained untouched, just as she had left it. For some reason Mama had not seen fit to darken her doorstep. She placed the diaper bag down on a low table and watched as the twins deposited more blankets and plushies and dolls than anyone really needed into the mound of cushions and blankets on which she slept. 

Helena began to disrobe, shedding layer upon layer of fabric until she was down to just a thin white underdress. She lay down with the twins, tucking them against her; and she closed her eyes. 

Sleep, however, did not come. Mama was gone. She was home once more and reunited with her beloved little Edgar and Ellen and yet.... And yet... It was not right. 

Though Edgar and Ellen were as close to her as they could physically possibly be, Helena couldn't help but feel that was a vast gaping chasm between them. 

She opened her eyes and found four pale blue ones glinting back at her in the darkness. She reached out with both slender hands to pet the twin's curls and closed her eyes once more, her head falling back, hitting her pillow. 

"I'm sorry, sweethearts, about your... "Mama". " 

" 's alright, " they mumbled in tandem into Helena's bosom. (Or at least the place that her bosom would have been had she had one.) 

"Is it? " Helena asked, she rather suspected it wasn't. 

The twins made an odd guttural noise that vibrated through her chest, and might have been a ‘no’ or a ‘yes’ or simply an anguished moan. 

"It doooooesssssn'ttt mattttterrrr." they groaned, "you're a better Mama, anyway. " 

Helena's hands stopped, still tangled in dark curls. 

"If.... When Mama comes back.... " 

"She won’t come back" one twin said. "We won't let her. " the other said, and they sounded resolute. Then, more quietly, "you’re our only Mama now." 

Helena clutched both her babies closer to her so that she could bury her face in their curls. "I love you, so terribly, terribly much, "she whispered. 

"We love you too, Momma" 

Helena wasn't certain if she had heard that right, if they had truly called her Momma. Momma. It sounded softer than when they had called their "Mama". 

One of the twins gripped a braid and placed the wooden bead on the end of the braid into their mouth and began sucking. The other twin followed suit with another braid. Helena began to hum, a tune that she had found in small carved box once while she had been looking for a misplaced hair comb. 

The twins breathing evened out. "Momma"/she whispered I'm the darkness. Mama. Momma. Mama. Momma. What did it matter? She was here. The twins, smelling sweetly of baby powder were curled up on her, slobbering on her braided hair and Mama was gone. The twins had made their choice, and it was her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been doing this for a year now.... When I first started this I expected it to be uhh.... much, much shorter and over and done with in like a month. Maybe two.


	351. Chapter 351

"Come in."   
Gabriel put down the hand that was poised to knock and instead took in a breath, and put on a shiny white smile as the door swung open. 

Lord Beelzebub sat in her quarters, wearing a slightly shabby brocade smoking jacket and glaring at him over the brim of a silver chalice. 

Gabriel clasped his hands behind his back as he entered. He stopped awkwardly in front of the Prince of hell and just stood there. He cleared his throat, "You... wanted to see me? " 

Beelzebub placed the goblet down on a small, rickety-looking table. "Yes. I have a proposition for you." 

"A proposition? " Gabriel furrowed his brow. "Like matrimony?" 

Beelzebub wondered where the nearest oven was, so that she could go and stick her head in it. She closed her eyes and took a breath. "No. Not matrimony. " 

Gabriel just stood looking even more confused. (He definitely wasn't disappointed that the proposition wasn't matrimony. Beelzebub was ugly. And dumb. Dumb, ugly Beelzebub who he definitely wouldn't marry.) 

"Sit." It was an order, not an offer, so Gabriel sat and oddly enough, the Prince of Hell looked pleased. 

"I was speaking to the human while we were at the Principality's bookshop... " 

"What human?" Gabriel interrupted. Had there been humans there? He wasn't sure he had noticed. 

Black eyes narrowed at the archangel. "The fallen woman. " Beelzebub said tersely. 

"As I was saying, she mentioned that it might benefit you to have a reprieve from making decisions. So, I was thinking that we might come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, wherein I make decisions for you. "

It was appealing, the thought of not having to undertake the exhausting task of figuring out what to do anymore, but it was also dangerous. As Gabriel had learned. He had thought for so long that it was best that he follow the word of God, and look where that had gotten him: in literal Hell. Along with bright beautiful Lucifer and darling little baby Raphie. Gabriel didn't want to be manipulated by anyone anymore, not even by Beelzebub. " I can't. What if you tell me to give away Heaven's classified information? I can't do that! I signed a contract, Beez! A contract!" 

"Don't call me Beez!" Beelzebub had somehow thought that that she could approach this with some subtlety, and Gabriel would understand. What a stupid, stupid, demon was she. "I'm not going to try and extort Heaven's secrets from you. (.... "Yet" was added very quietly to the end of that sentence) I meant roleplay. Roleplay that would take place in private. Behind closed doors. " 

"Role play.... Like a game? " 

" Yes, like a game. " 

'There wouldn't be fornication involved, would there? " Gabriel made a face. He was above all such sins. (Excepting maybe the occasional smidgen of pride) Besides, bodily fluids were gross. 

The corner of Beelzebub's lips twitched, and for a second Gabriel thought she might smile. "No, not if you don't want it." 

"What would this game entail then. I just, do what you say? " 

"Yes, and if you do well you get rewarded, and if you don't you get punished. " 

Now that was a system that Gabriel could understand. However, he was already in Hell, so what other punishment could there be for him? "Are you going to discorporate me?" 

Beelzebub had ceased to be surprised by anything that came out of Gabriel's mouth at this point. 

"For the punishment, will you discorporate me? " 

"You do understand that this is a game? I was thinking of a more pleasurable punishment, like a nice caning."

Caning? Wasn't that spanking? A punishment for children and littles? Also, how in Go... Someone's name could punishment be pleasurable? That didn't make any sense! And what if he didn't like his punishment, because of course he wouldn't! It was a punishment after all. 

He voiced all of this to Beelzebub, and her lips twitched once more. 

"You choose a word, and if you don't want to play the game anymore all you have to do is say it. " Beelzebub took a drink of the dark liquid in the chalice. "So, what do you say? Would you like to give in to the temptations of Hell?"

"No, "replied Gabriel, "I don't want to give in to Hell, I... I want to give in to you. "


	352. Chapter 352

Crowley huffed behind his pacifier in his sleep and gave a little wiggle. Aziraphale had to suppress an "awwww" at this absolutely adorable behavior. 

Crowley was currently having a nap in the sunbeam that was streaming onto the bed and highlighting his curls a lovely red-gold. (Aziraphale's book shop got much more sunlight that it should have, strictly speaking, what with its windows being coated with a thick layer of dust and being in the middle of London and all.) 

Aziraphale, who wasn't quite as fond of sleep as his darling demon, had been reading. However, due to recent events, the Haunting of Hill House maybe hadn't been the best literary choice. So, the angel had carefully marked his spot with an angel-themed bookmark (given to him a number of years ago by a certain foul fiend) and watched his sweet little Crowley sleep. 

It never ceased to amaze him that he had this. Crowley here beside him, splayed out on the bed in a short, sheer black baby doll nightie and duckie diaper, drooling all over the devil bear plushie he was cuddled up against. Aziraphale reached out to gently stroke an unruly ginger curl that was lying on the bed between them. Aziraphale twined it gently in his fingers. He'd wanted to do that in the beginning, in the garden, to reach over and twine his fingers into those bright red curls. Everything, (well, almost everything. Aziraphale could certainly do without the speeding and some of the demon's more mischievous mischief) about Crowley had always seemed to tempt him. 

Aziraphale watched as golden eyes flitted open. 

"Did you have a nice nap, dear?" 

Crowley grumbled and shoved his devil bear over his face. 

"Really! " huffed out the amused angel, as he reached over to rub a thin demon tummy "I thought you were supposed to be less grumpy after a nap, not more!" 

"Guhhhh" Crowley said, and after some time of belly rubbing, finally removed the plushie from his face. 

"So dearest, Helena and I were speaking... " 

"Mmmmhmmph" Crowley replied, giving a happy little wiggle as Aziraphale rubbed a particularly good spot. 

"And we thought that it might be pleasant to get away for a while." 

Crowley stilled. He spit out his pacifier, turning huge yellow eyes on his angel. "You're leaving?" 

"Oh! No! No! No! Dear! I was thinking that we would all go together. " 

"Ahhhh. " Crowley clutched his bear and scrunched his face up. " Ssssss alright if you want to go away of coursssse. I wouldn't mind at all. " 

Aziraphale smiled down at his dearest demon, rather suspecting that Crowley wouldn't think it was alright at all if he really did go away. "Of course, darling. However, I would much prefer to go away with you. " 

Crowley flicked his tongue and snuggled closer to Aziraphale. "Ssssssoooo, what we're you thinking, angel? " 

"Well we still have a little bit of summer ahead of us, and it has been dreadfully hot out... " 

"I know, anggggeeelll, "Crowley snarked, "that'sssss why we are in here where it'ssss cool and not out there where it is hot." 

Aziraphale booped his little devil on the nose, "Dreadful, cheeky thing you are.” 

Crowley wiggled and stuck his little forked tongue out. 

"I thought spending a bit of time by the sea would be a nice change for all of us. Helena knows of a nice little cottage that's connected to the mirror realm. It wouldn't be too much trouble to miracle it to suit our needs. " 

Crowley closed his eyes again, wiggling still further into his angel's side. (he was not, he decided, entirely done napping for the day.) "Soundssssss nice. Hastur will like the water... Sssstupid toad, and the seaside is good for invalids, and Eddie is an invalid now, and the twinsssss and I can play in the sand. I like sand, feelsssss good on my scalessss.... " Crowley trailed off with a yawn. 

"Yes, we’ll all have a marvelous time, won't we? " Aziraphale said, stroking ginger curls and already planning out what books he would be bringing


	353. Chapter 353

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! " Aziraphale bustled about the bedroom taking things in and out of suitcases only to, in the end, add them to other suitcases. 

Crowley flopped backwards onto the bed, sighing dramatically. "Really, angel, aren't you done yet? " 

Aziraphale paused, placing his hands on his hips and frowning at the demon. "You could help you know, you lazy thing! Have you packed anything yet?" 

Crowley gestured to the black suitcases and the huge plush snake sitting next to him on the bed. 

The angel eyed them skeptically. "Are you certain you packed everything? All the toys and clothes you want? "

"Yessssssssssssss Angel," Crowley groaned. "And bessssssidesssssss if we forget something, we can just miracle it."

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, "Well excuse me if I prefer to do things the proper way. If you're not going to be helpful, you can just go and wait downstairs you naughty thing you!"

"Fiiiiinnnneeee " Crowley got up and grudgingly picked up his luggage and the huge snake plush, slinking downstairs. "But hurry uuuuppppppp annnnggggeeellll! "

Aziraphale did not dignify Crowley's whining with an answer. 

It was absolutely ages before Aziraphale finally came down, laden with suitcases and bags. Crowley snapped his fingers and they all disappeared. 

"What? " Crowley said shrugging, "I just put them in the Bentley. " 

Aziraphale glared, but it was far more adorable than intimidating. "Well, I'm going upstairs to get the rest!" 

"They're alreadyyyyy in the Bentley, angeelllll!" 

"Then I'm going back upstairs to make certain that I haven't forgotten anything! " 

Crowley groaned and flopped back on the sofa. It was at least a billion more hours before Aziraphale finally returned once more with a single bag slung over his shoulder. 

Crowley cracked a single yellow eye open "Do you have everything?" 

"Yes, my dear, I think I do. " 

"Are you finally ready?" 

"Yes, I believe I am" 

" 'k!Let'ssssss go, angel! " Crowley flailed his long limbs around until he managed to somehow propel himself upwards and off the sofa. 

"Darling, " Aziraphale said, and though Crowley was halfway out the door, he could just hear the smile in the angel's voice. "aren't you forgetting something? " 

"NO. " 

"Are you wet? " Crowley let out a noise that sounded a bit like what happens when one strangles a frog, and grudgingly trudged back to the sofa. 

Crowley sped extra fast through London to make up for the delay. (He had insisted in driving the Bentley to the seaside. He felt he'd been neglecting his dear Bentley lately, and couldn't bear to go off without it.) 

By the time they reached the city limits, Aziraphale looked positively green. 

Crowley took pity on the poor angel and slowed down to a more "leisurely" (for Crowley) pace for the rest of the drive. 

Aziraphale seemed to relax when not face with immediate and certain discorporation via vehicular homicide, and eventually took out a book. 

Crowley stared at the angel, nose in a book, ridiculous little glasses on, the sunlight though the Bentley's window casting a golden halo around his curls. 

"Really dearest, you could at least pretend to be paying attention to the road, maybe put your hands back on the steering wheel, hmmmm? " 

Crowley jumped, startled, and he felt his diaper and his face simultaneously grow warm. "The Bentley knowssss where to go," he huffed out. 

Aziraphale looked at up him, amused. "What's on your mind, dear? Do you need something? " 

"Nothing " Crowley wiggled in his seat. It wasn't just his diaper and face that felt warm, all of him did. It felt like he had just spent a lovely, lazy afternoon basking in the sun. Contentment, Crowley thought it was called. He was going on a trip with his angel, who would wear a ridiculously outdated swimsuit and fuss and coo over him while they splashed in the water and ate ice cream and took naps in the summer sun with their friends. Yes, Crowley thought, contentment seemed right. 

Aziraphale was still staring at him with questioning blue eyes. Crowley slunk down a little further. "It's just..... nice. That'sssss all. Going somewhere with you. "

"Oh! " Aziraphale beamed, and Crowley melted into the leather seat of the Bentley. "I'm glad dear! I find it very nice to be going somewhere with you as well." He then reached out a pudgy hand across the seats to take one of Crowley's thin ones. He squeezed, and went back to his book, not letting go. Crowley squeezed back, and wondered if too much love and contentment could really kill a demon.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In a World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670467) by [OverlyCheerfulRat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlyCheerfulRat/pseuds/OverlyCheerfulRat)


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